The Protector
by hikingurl
Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world where civilization barely survives, Edward has spent his entire life training to protect his society, his family, and the girl who has captured his heart. AU COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**The Protector**

Chapter One

The ground is hard and cold beneath me.

Rolling over on my side, I tuck my knees in, pulling them into my chest while I wrap my woolen cloak tighter around me, tugging the hood up over my head to retain more body heat. My movement brings me closer to Tyler, who is asleep next to me. I can feel his body shaking with chills in the predawn darkness.

Tyler was bitten by a fanger two days ago and his body is fighting the poison. We field-dressed the wound and gave him medicine to counteract the venom, but it takes several days to recover. I'm relieved that this is the last night of our scouting trip. We should be back in our barracks by tomorrow afternoon. A night in the infirmary, some rest and hot food, and he should be fine.

I rearrange my cloak to cover both of us, hoping the extra heat will help him sleep. My shifting around opened a space behind me, and cold air rushes in before being cut off when my brother, Emmett, rolls over with a groan, closing the gap between us. His bulk is comforting against my back. My mind stills and begins to slide towards sleep. Before I let myself fall back asleep, however, I raise my head and check our camp.

There are twelve of us. We sleep in groups of three, with our feet towards a small fire in the middle of our camp, like spokes on a wheel. Three are always on sentry duty while nine of us sleep. I once asked a trainer why we were taught to camp like this. He laughed and said we would learn why soon enough – and we did. That first time we were surprised during a night practice exercise – we had ignored orders and slept all huddled up from the cold – we stumbled into each other, fumbling with our weapons and inflicting more damage on each other than the trainers impersonating Thaayers 'killing' us.

We learned our lesson. The punishment that followed for disobeying orders just reinforced our obedience to the trainers. Sleeping in groups of three allowed us to stay warm and protect one another, without getting in each other's way.

We're all currently eighteeners; but we're nearing the end of our eleven years of training together. When we return to our home valley in two days, we will no longer be cadets. We'll take our oath to become full Protectors, ending our training years forever.

There were fifteen of us when we began as eighters, but we lost three members to disease and training accidents. The remaining twelve of us have meshed into a solid fighting unit: we think as one, move as one, and protect each other with our lives.

For the past week, we've been scouting along the upper edge of the escarpment that separates the plateau on which our valley is located from the Wastelands below for signs of yippers, fangers or the Thaay, but besides the fanger that bit Tyler on his lower calf, everything has been normal.

The fire is only a small bed of coals. There is just enough light from it and the setting moon for me to make out the other two groups sleeping. Their soft snores and slow breathing reassure me that the rest of my group is safe.

A flash of light out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. I rise up a little more to look out over the edge of the cliff to the Wasteland below. There is a strange pulsing glow at the very edge of the horizon, but I blink once and it is gone. Unsure if I had imagined it or not, I lay my head back down on my arm, closing my eyes and relaxing my body, in search of any nearby danger.

A faint breeze stirs the air and I breathe in deeply, yet I detect no unfamiliar scents. I concentrate on my hearing, but there is nothing out of the ordinary. Finally, I relax my body completely and open my mind, sending out fingers of mental awareness to scan the surrounding area. I touch my sleeping comrades briefly and then quest further, locating the three sentries. When I don't find anything threatening, I allow myself to slip into sleep.

As I do, the dream pulls me under.

In my dream I am once again in the backyard of my childhood home. We are having a party and all our friends and neighbors are there. The air is filled with the conversations of adults, the laughter and shrieks of children running and playing, and the mouthwatering smells of food cooking. I am filled with a happiness and peace I have not felt in a long time. The party is for my brother Jasper. Today is his beginning day, the day we celebrate the start of his life, but this will also be his leaving day, because when each boy reaches his eighth year he leaves his childhood behind and begins his training to become a Protector. At the end of the afternoon, the officers will come and Jasper will leave with them. He will only be allowed to come home a few times a year for celebrations and Oath Week. In two years when Emmett and I turn eight, we will join him at the cadet barracks.

I look over to the table where Jasper is standing beside our mother and father, greeting each of our neighbors as they congratulate him, thanking them for their training gifts. His face is serious and he stands as straight and as tall as he can. He looks different, older somehow, and my stomach twists with a strange emotion that I don't recognize.

To honor his oldest son, Father has dressed in his old Protector uniform. His service medals and commander bars are pinned in a row on his left chest, their polished surface glinting in the sun when he moves. The left sleeve of his uniform is pinned up to the shoulder because of his missing arm. I know he has other scars and wounds from his service – he has shown them to me and told me about some of them, but sometimes I sense that he is keeping secrets about his time as an active Protector.

Father turns to our mother and places his hand on her stomach, giving her a smile and a quick kiss on her cheek. He pats Jasper's back and tells him to run and play and enjoy himself, then walks over to join the rest of the men as they turn the meat on the fire and reminisce about their time in the service.

Mother is arranging the rest of the food on the serving tables as I run by her to join my friends. I stop suddenly and grab her around the waist, hugging her tightly, resting my head on her stomach where my father placed his hand. I realize with a start that my mother is going to have a baby and I know that it will be a girl. I grin up into her startled face and whisper, "Alice" before running off to the wooden structure in the corner of our yard where all the rest of my friends are playing.

Mike and my brother, Emmett, are on the top level dueling with their play swords. I roam underneath, growling and grimacing and pretending to be a Thaay as I chase our neighbors' daughters, Bella and Jessica. The girls run and squeal as I threaten to catch and eat them.

Emmett and I are twins, a rarity in our community and a constant source of teasing for both of us. Although we are about the same in height, he is already bigger and stronger than I am. He's louder and bossier, too, and usually takes the lead when our group of sixers plays together. Ben digs in the dirt, examining the worms he finds, while Tyler swings from bars and brags to Lauren about how strong he is.

I've almost caught Bella when she slips past me and runs up the ramp to the top level. She looks behind her, laughing at me, when I realize that she is between Mike and Emmett and is about to be hit by Mike's sword. The sword comes around in a wide arc and strikes her lower arm just above her wrist with a sickening crunch.

Bella shrieks in pain and without having to check, I know that her arm is broken. I grab her as she starts to fall and her eyes fill up with tears. She bites her lower lip to keep from crying and trembles with the effort to keep them from falling. We both know that crying is not permitted. I pat her back, trying to soothe her and as I look into her eyes I find myself telling her that I will protect her. "I'll protect you Bella. I'll always protect you."

"Protect, Bella, always protect you, protect." I'm muttering the words in my sleep and on the last "protect" I find myself on my feet, wide awake, sword in hand, shield in place, crouching defensively. Emmett is instantly armed and beside me, both of us scanning our camp for signs of danger. Everything is quiet; the sentries haven't raised any alarms, so he looks at me, raising an eyebrow in question. I nod to him and whisper, "The dream."

He only hesitates a moment before reaching out with his sword and quietly tapping our squad members to wake them. In seconds they, too, are armed and alert, moving into a tight defensive circle. He whistles softly and the three sentries filter silently back into camp. They look to him in question and use hand signals to report that nothing is amiss. We are all still on high alert and I know that some of them are wondering what is going on; but Emmett never doubts me. Just as I am beginning to doubt myself, the first stirring of the morning breeze brings with it the stench of yippers.

The yippers are on us in an instant, snarling, biting and clawing as they pour over the edge of the cliff. They are ugly animals, four-legged with large clawed paws. Most of them are about mid-thigh in height and are covered with dirty brown-spotted fur. Their heads are wide with strong jaws filled with sharp, deadly teeth. One bite to the leg and they can bring a grown man down; and once they have you on the ground, they go for your throat.

But we are ready for them. We slash, thrust and cut with our swords and bash with our shields, moving in a choreographed dance of death perfected by years of training. In twenty minutes it is all over, and ten yippers lie dead at our feet.

Everyone begins cleaning up the camp, loading our supplies into backpacks and preparing to leave. We are tired and ready to return to the barracks.

As we're tossing the bodies of the dead yippers over the edge of the cliff to the Wastelands below, I notice Ben examining one of them and I squat down beside him to see what he has found. He shows me the deformed front paws of the animal; they almost resemble hands. There is the nub of an opposable thumb on each one.

"This is how they were able to climb up the cliff to get to us," he says, looking at me. "We need to take this one to the wall to show the officers there." I nod and Emmett agrees, so we tie it to a pole to carry back with us.

While everyone is busy, I notice Emmett standing at the edge of the cliff looking out across the dry, dusty landscape below us. On the edge of the horizon is the ever present sickly green glow. "Fucking Thaays," he mutters as I walk up beside him. He glances over at me and I know we are thinking about the same thing. "Jasper," he whispers, and I nod.

It's been two years since Jasper took his oath, and six months since he disappeared on a mission to the Wastelands. He was assigned as a Ranger, the only type of Protector who is authorized to enter the Wastelands. Rangers go in alone and come back alone – when they come back at all. In the last few years, more and more of them have disappeared. Although the officers won't talk about it, it is obvious that something is going on out there. My mind wanders back to the pulsing light I saw last night.

My attention is brought back to the present when Emmett shifts uncomfortably beside me. He casually turns to check out the camp, but I know he is making sure no one is close enough to hear us. "Do you think he could still be alive out there?" he whispers.

I shrug. "I don't' know."

"Have you ever tried doing," he pauses and his voice drops, "you know… "

"No." I shake my head. "Too far."

He knows about some of my abilities, but we don't talk about them openly or in great detail. Having hunches or knacks or premonitions is – like crying or emotional displays – completely forbidden in our society. I learned that lesson the hard way when, as a tener, I tried to explain to a trainer why I knew there was a fanger coiled beneath the rock he was about to sit on. My attempts to explain how I could 'feel' it, had led to a stern rebuke that only Thaay could 'feel' things.

"Are you a fucking Thaay disguised as a real person?" he had sneered at me as I stood before him in shock. "Protectors don't use 'feelings.' We use our trained senses, our knowledge, and our weapons. Do we need to send you out into the Wastelands to join your real family?"

The tongue lashing had also come with five strikes from the trainer's whip that my squad had witnessed. Faint scars from the beating were still visible on my back. The teasing and bullying I took from the rest of the cadets had been as bad as the beating. Emmett and I had sported bruises and a couple of black eyes for weeks until they finally left us alone. At the time, I had wondered why the officers and trainers never stepped in to stop some of the abuse, but later I realized it was all designed to toughen us for the hardships that we would face in the years to come.

When I questioned Emmett why he stood up with me when it wasn't really his fight, he had looked at me like I really was half Thaay and just laughed. "You're my twin brother," he said. "If you're a Thaay, then I guess I am too."

I never told anyone about my 'feelings' again.

Over the last couple of years I've learned to rely on my premonitions. They have never been wrong and I've always been able to explain them away as heightened senses, such as smelling yippers, hearing the scrape of a fanger's scales, or seeing a faint track that others had missed.

The dream started about a year ago, however. It's always the same one, with Bella. I have no idea why it continues to haunt me. It comes at night, just before some type of danger, and it has saved us more than once from the increasing number of attacks we've been experiencing. It is almost as if she is protecting me, even though I am the one promising to protect her.

It is time to go back to the barracks. Emmett nods at me, and I set off at a lope as lead scout. The rest of the squad falls in behind as I range out ahead. No one thinks twice about me taking the lead scouting duties. I'm good at it; they know it and trust me.

Tomorrow is the start of Oath Week. We will be sworn in as full Protectors and receive our personal assignments and specialized training schedules. Our families and neighbors will be there. Everyone from the outlying villages will come into the city to enjoy the festivities. There will be food, drink and dancing; but most of all, for me, a chance to see Bella.

.

.

.AN: Thanks for reading. All mistakes are mine.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended**

 **The Protector**

Chapter Two

EPOV

It takes longer to get back to the barracks than it normally does. Emmett calls for several stops so that Ben, Mike and I can do a scouting sweep. The scouting breaks are just an excuse to give Tyler a chance to rest, we all know that's what he is doing, but no one questions him. It's just good strategy to keep each member of the group in shape to fight if need be. Our sweeps are all clear; nothing seems to be out of the ordinary except that the ground seems to be extra dry and Ben and I note more dead plant life than would be normal for this time of year.

The terrain begins to climb sharply as we leave the escarpment behind. The dry, dusty landscape gradually changes from desert, to small trees and bushes, to dark, cool forest when we finally reach the opening to the valley where the city is located. The valley spreads out to the left and right of us. It is surrounded almost entirely by tall, snowcapped mountains. The only access is this small break in the mountain range and it is guarded by a stone wall topped by the Protector barracks. From a military stand point, it is an ideal location. It is almost impenetrable and easily defended.

The city is located directly across the valley from the barracks and backs up to the cliff face of the tallest mountains. The stone wall that surrounds it is topped by watch towers that enable the guards there to see every part of the valley. Most of the valley floor is covered in fields and orchards and a few small villages dot the landscape. They are connected to the city by stone roads. If the valley is attacked the villagers can quickly retreat to safety behind the city walls. The valley has no natural water source except the snow from the mountains so the run off is collected in a series of catch basins and irrigation ditches. There are a few mines in some of the mountains and timber is still harvested from the surrounding hills. Everything that we eat, wear, or use must be made here unless we can secure a trade with cities outside the valley. Trade happens rarely though. I can only remember a handful of times that outsiders have shown up at the wall, and no one has in the last five years.

It is evening when we reach the wall. The sentry shouts a warning and we step apart into a row with our weapons on the ground and our arms raised into the air. Five archers take aim at us from the top of the wall. Although everyone can see who we are and everyone knows us, we don't move. This is protocol and we follow it, to the letter, every time. The commanding officer asks for the password and Emmett answers.

A small door set into the wall opens and a medical tech steps out with a large basket. Emmett motions for Tyler, Ben, me to go in. The door leads to a decontamination shower room. We strip off our clothes and place them into the basket before entering the room that is equipped with hot water, strong soap, brushes and cleaning cloths. Another medical tech and two seventeeners, who are doing their medical training rotation are waiting for us. They watch closely as we wash and scrub every part of our bodies, even our nails are trimmed and cleaned. After they are satisfied that we are clean, they motion us to enter the next room where Dr. Banner, the head of the valley's medical corps, is waiting to examine us. Every scratch, bruise, cut or injury must be inspected and noted on our records. Tyler's Fanger bite is immediately noticed and he is sent to the infirmary. When I approach Dr. Banner he asks if I was the one to treat Tyler's bite. I tell him yes and he sends me to the mess hall for something to eat before I am to report to the infirmary to discuss the treatment Tyler has received.

There is thick, hot stew and fresh bread waiting for us in the kitchen. I'm on my second bowl when the rest of my group begins to filter in. Although we are all tired and ready for bed, we have reports to be filed and duties to attend to before our day is over. Ben has already left to take the body of the dead Yipper we brought back with us to the science labs and Emmett and Mike will be making reports to the commanding officer. With a nod and a mumbled goodnight to the everyone, I leave to make my way to the infirmary.

Tyler is stretched out on a bed when I enter the room. The ankle with the Fanger bite is elevated on a foot rest and the bite itself has been cleaned and exposed. A food tray is on the table beside him. I note with satisfaction that he appears to have had a decent amount of food and drink and has finished almost all of it. His appearance is improved, there is more color in his face, but he still has dark circles under his eyes. Dr. Banner is bent over examining the bite when I enter the room. The two seventeeners are there as well as a fifteener who is standing respectively in one corner. They salute me when I enter and I nod in greeting.

Dr. Banner glances up at me, "Ahh Edward, nice to see you again," he says with a smile, "tell me what we have here."

"Tyler was bitten approximately three days ago." I start. "The Fanger was 16 inches long and had no unusual coloring. Body width was normal, but the head appeared to be bigger than usual and the fangs longer than expected. The serpent was killed, measured and packed in a preserving fluid container. It should be in the science lab now. First aid was started including cleaning of the area, suction to the puncture site, and an ointment and covering applied. Prescribed twice-a-day oral medication was administered. An additional sleep aid and pain medication was also included to allow Tyler to rest more comfortably at night. He was able to complete our normal activities, but appeared more tired than usual"

When I stop speaking, I nod to Dr. Banner to indicate I am finished. "Good report, Edward," he smiles as he turns to the waiting seventeeners. "Now cadets, do you have any observations to make or questions to ask?"

Their wide-eyed stuttering reminds me of just how much Banner likes to put his trainees on the spot and I have to turn my head to hide my grin. Finally one of them makes an attempt to answer, "Well, Sir", he starts, "the wound doesn't appear to be more than a day old, so I would say that it is not healing at the normal rate."

"Very good, an astute observation. Now what does that mean and what questions should we be asking?" When neither cadet can add anything he turns to the fifteener in the corner. "How about you, Cadet Riley. Anything you want to add to the conversation?"

Riley steps forward and glances at Dr. Banner and me. I know how intimidating it is to speak in front of officers and older cadets, so I watch with admiration as he takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. "Sirs," he says, addressing the two of us, " if the wound is three days old and is not healing properly, I would have several questions. First, has Cadet Tyler been bitten before? If so it might indicate that he is more susceptible to the venom. Second, the Fanger appeared to have some abnormalities. It is possible that the Fangers are adapting and producing more toxic venom and, if so, we would need to evaluate the possibility of issuing stronger medicine. And third, I'd like to know Sir", he says nodding to me," if the bite happened during the day or at night."

His first two points are exactly what I have already been thinking, but his third question surprises me and I ask him to explain.

"I've been studying our medical records of Fanger bites," he answers, "and all of the ones that occurred in the evening or at night seem to be worse. It is my thought that maybe the serpents feel more threatened at night and inject more venom into the bite. Or perhaps we are seeing two different types of Fangers, one that is active during the day and a slightly different type that is active at night."

I'm stunned by his words and his theory. It has never crossed my mind that the Fangers might be changing, but after what we saw with the Yippers this morning, I believe he may have a valid point. My surprise must show on my face, because he immediately offers to show me the material he has been studying. He has such a worried look on his face as I stare at him and decline his offer. It's while I am looking at him, that I become aware of a faint pressure on my mind; a faint buzzing in my head. I've never felt this before, at least not with another person. It's almost as though he is trying to mentally reach out to me and I am very tempted to let my guard down and try to "feel" him. Before I do, however, we're interrupted by Dr. Banner clearing his throat and drawing our attention back to him.

Banner dismisses the seventeeners then turns to compliment Riley on his observations and conclusions before dismissing him also. As Riley is leaving the room, he turns back to me with a smile and offers his congratulations on my oath-taking tomorrow. "My family is looking forward to seeing you again," he says, his grin growing wider, "particularly my sister."

It is only after he has left the room that I remember that he is Bella's younger brother.

AN: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, follow and comment on this story. Your support is appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Protector**

Chapter Three

EPOV

I'm not surprised when I hear Emmett quietly slip out of bed before dawn. His cot bed is next to mine in our dormitory and I know, even though yesterday was long and tiring, that he had a night as restless I had. I try to go back to sleep, but finally give up and make my way to the communal showers. I am surprised, however, to find him hidden away in one of the corner stalls. Water is pouring over his head and shoulders, his back is to me and he has one hand braced against the wall and the other down between his legs. I smirk when I realize just what it is he is doing. So engrossed is he that he doesn't hear me sneak up behind him until I start moaning, "Oh Rose, oh yes, oh Rose!"

He turns and makes a half-hearted swing at me, which I easily evade, laughing as I dance away from him. "What are you doing, dear brother? " I tease, glancing down where he is still cupping himself between his legs. "Shouldn't you be saving that for tonight?"

"Asshole," he mutters as he wraps a towel around his waist. When he glances back at me his expression sobers, and he becomes serious and for a moment as we look at each other, both of us aware of how important today will be. Although today will be what we have trained for and looked forward to all our lives, tonight will be, in some ways, just as life changing for us. Tonight will be the night we move out of our shared dormitory and into a private room in our assignment barracks. Tonight will be the first time in my life that I haven't slept next to my twin, and tonight will be the first time that we will be allowed to invite a woman to spend the night with us.

Two years ago today we attended our first Social as newly promoted seventeeners. Jasper had sworn his Oath that day and our family had celebrated dinner with him earlier in the evening. That night Emmett and I had gone to the social hall with him. Every unmarried Protector, whether active or non-active, was eligible to attend the Social and every unmarried woman seventeen or older could also attend if they chose to. It was a time for men and women to meet each other, to talk and visit, to dance, to enjoy refreshments, and to try for one night to forget our uncertain future. It was a night for those couples who had committed to each other to reconnect and spend time planning their life together when his active service would end and they would be allowed to marry. It was a night when, if the woman was willing, a Protector could invite her to spend the night with him.

Seventeeners and eighteeners were there to serve drinks and food. Our purpose was to entertain the women with small talk and offers to dance if they agreed. We were not there for any sort of "inappropriate touching or conversation" and we certainly were not there to invite any women back to our dormitory. Our primary agenda was to watch and learn what it meant to be gentlemen.

I remembered standing behind the serving tables greeting the Protectors and the women as they entered the room and stopped for something to drink or eat. The room had gone quiet when the Matrons in charge of the Social had led in the newest group of younger women. Each one wore a white flower in her hair to signify her leaving childhood behind and beginning her life as a woman. One by one, they were introduced to the assembled crowd amid applause and cheers. This night was just as important for them as it was for the Oath Takers.

It was when Rose had been introduced that I heard Emmett's sharp intake and had turned to look at him. He was staring at her as though she were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. I had watched him try to control his feelings as one after another, different men had approached her with offers to dance or refreshments. She had been gracious and charming but had turned down all the offers she had received to extend the evening. The next night had been more of the same. Rose smiling and friendly, Emmett tight-lipped and white-knuckled. The third night Social of Oath Week had started just the same, but after thirty minutes of declining offers and attention, Rose had made her move. She had walked up to Emmett and in front of the entire crowd had told him she was thirsty and for him to get her something to drink. After that, she said he was going to dance with her. They had spent the rest of the evening together under the very watchful eyes of the Matrons. Every Social for the last two years had been the same. Emmett and Rose would spend every minute together talking and planning. Only touching while they danced together or when, at the end of the evening, he was permitted a chaste kiss to her hand.

Their years of waiting would end tonight.

There has been a lot of talk about tonight, a lot of teasing, and a lot of false bravadoes. Yesterday's walk back to the wall was filled with all the bragging that only a bunch of eighteeners, who have never touched a woman could imagine. It had helped to pass the day, and most of it had been ridiculous, but Emmett had never joined in. Tonight wasn't just about sex for him. He truly loved Rose, and after waiting for two years, they would be together tonight and free to act on that love.

All these thoughts cross my mind as I'm looking at my brother. I can't help but return the slow smile that overtakes his face. "So tonight, you and Rose? It's a sure thing, huh?"

"Yeah." His face reflects his happiness. "We've talked about it, a lot," he admits. "And you and Bella?"

When I don't answer him right away, his face again gets serious. "Edward," he questions. "You and Bella?"

"I don't know, Em," I admit. "We haven't really discussed it. She always seems to change the subject or we get interrupted." I shrug my shoulders. "I guess what happens, just happens." His look tells me he's not buying it, but I just wave him off. "Hey," I say, giving his shoulder a shove and trying to change the subject, "I guess I'll be addressing you as Officer Emmett tomorrow. Right?"

"Nothing's for sure," he starts, but I'm quick to interrupt him.

"Come on, twin, we know you're going to be assigned to the Officer Corp. You've been the bossy one for as long as I can remember, and everyone knows it." I laugh. "But seriously, Emmett, no one is better suited to the job than you are, and I'm going to be very proud and happy to address my brother as Officer."

"What about you, Edward? Where do you think you'll end up? I've always thought the Medical Division would suit you. Will I be calling you Doctor someday?"

His question reminded me of the conversation I had with Dr. Banner the night before after Riley had left the room. He had told me that, although he didn't have a part in the final assignments, he had asked for me to be put into the medical division and that he hoped to be spending a lot more time with me. We had gone on to discuss Cadet Riley and his research. "I hope I can spend a lot more time with that one too," he had added.

'Well, I guess what happens, just happens." I answer him, repeating my words from earlier.

"Come on," he laughs throwing an arm around my shoulder and leading me out of the shower room. "Let's go get ready to see the family, take an oath, and get laid tonight."

I chuckle as I follow him out of the shower room.

Emmett has always had a way with words.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Protector**

Chapter Four

EPOV

According to our mother, Emmett and I saw our first Oath Procession when we were only a few months old. She and Father held us, with Jasper by their side, as we watched all the cadets and Protectors march by us on their way to the Oath Taking Ceremony. I don't remember that procession or the one the next year, when we were barely a year old, but I do remember bits and pieces of the processions that occurred every year after that. I remember watching as each year group went by walking proudly beneath their flag. I remember staring at the Protectors, armed with their swords and shields, knowing they protected the safety of our valley. And I remember waiting anxiously for the last group in the procession to finally march by. These were the Oath Takers, the eighteeners who had finished their training and were to become the new Protectors This was the group we waited for. The heroes we cheered for, waved flags for, and threw flowers for, when they marched by us. This is the group Emmett and I will be part of today.

We are all assembled and ready to begin by midmorning. The drummers start a marching cadence and we all begin stomping our feet in rhythm to the sound. Our shields are held across our bodies with our left arms and with our swords in our right hand, we begin to beat on them. The pounding seems to sink into our very bones and fills the air around us. I feel my heart begin to speed up to match the rhythm of the drums and our feet. Someone begins to shout, "Oath. Oath. Oath." Soon we are all chanting in unison with the drums, the stomping, the pounding and our heart beat. "Oath! Oath! Oath!"

A command rings out and the eighters with their training officers start the procession. This is their first one and I wonder if they feel the awe and pride that I felt at eight years old when we led the way from the wall to the city. They are followed by each age cohort and then all the currently active Protectors. We are last.

Our group is led by two people. The first is a twelve year old girl, dressed in white, crowned with flowers in her hair, and holding a sheath of wheat, she represents the future of our society. She is motherhood and family; planting and harvest; joy and happiness. She is all the things we are pledging our lives to protect.

The second person is a tall figure completely covered in black robes and holding two crossed swords that drip red blood. He represents the sacrifices that have been made by the Protectors before us and by our ancestors who helped build our safe haven. He is there to remind the people of the seriousness of the oath we are about to take, and he is there to remind us, the current Oath Takers, that fulfilling our promise sometimes means death.

The valley stretches out before us as we start down the road from the wall to the city. As soon as we come into view a great cheer goes up from all the people who are lining the road and waiting to greet us. Except for a small group of Protectors who have volunteered to guard the wall, everyone in the valley attends the Oath Taking Ceremony. The cheering gets even louder as our group gets nearer to the city. As soon as the people see the young girl leading us, they begin to throw flowers at her feet and call out to her for a blessing. She smiles and waves her stalks of grain, granting their wish.

The crowd quiets as the figure in black walks by, each person nodding their head in a show of respect for this part of our past and future. They erupt in applause as our group comes into view. As we pass, they join in behind us, until all the citizens of our valley have joined in the procession and have entered the gates of the city and the amphitheater.

The amphitheater is built into one of the cliff faces that form the back and sides of our city. The seating rises up from the flat area of the stage and is divided into three parts by two aisles. The middle section is the largest and this is where the people will sit. On the right side is a section for all the cadets to sit. Each row of stone benches is reserved for an age group. The left section is for the Protectors and the seating is divided by assignment.

As we enter the amphitheater, the eighters veer off to the right and sit on the first row of benches with the niners behind them. Each age group occupies the next row until the seventeeners fill in the next to the last row. Their flags are placed in holders at the end of each row.

The Protectors turn to the left and fill in the benches reserved for their assignment group. Each group has a banner that proclaims their specialty. The Officers' flag has two crossed swords, the Archers' flag a bow and arrows, the Engineers', a water wheel. There is a Medical Division, a Scientific Division, an Agricultural Division and the Rangers Division, each with their own flag and insignia.

We enter last and climb to the row behind the seventeeners. The eighteeners' flag is already in place and we sit under it one last time. When the crowd follows behind us, they move into the center section. The first row is left empty and several rows behind it are reserved for our families.

On the back side of the stage, facing the audience, are several groups of wooden benches. The middle group is reserved for the Officers who will be in charge of the ceremony. The benches to the left are for the heads of each of the divisions and the last group on the right is for the Matrons who serve as an advisory council and are in charge of the women's activities.

When everyone is seated and quiet, the head Matron steps forward. She carries a large journal which she places on a podium in the middle of the stage facing the audience. All of our ceremonies begin with the reading of our people's history. Opening the book, she begins to read:

 _"We lived in peace._

 _Male and female, young and old, the people lived in peace with one another, and with all the plants, and with all the animals, and with their mother, the land. The land was good. Water fell from the sky, the sun gave its warmth, and the plants grew in abundance. All the people and the animals had enough to eat. No one wanted for food or shelter or clothing. No one took more than they needed. The people, the animals, and the plants lived in harmony with their mother._

 _We lived in peace._

My mind wanders a bit as she continues speaking. We have all heard this story before. It is read to us at every gathering, every holiday, and we read it together during our classes at school. Like everyone around me, I know it by heart and I find myself silently mouthing the words as she reads. I listen as she continues, describing how greed entered the world, how people fought against each other to take more than what they needed. How the plants and animals were slaughtered to provide the powerful with more strength to take from those who could not defend themselves. Her voice rises in indignation as she describes the horrors inflicted on the land.

 _We knew then that the Thaay had come among us. They built strong cities to protect themselves and their possessions. The people were left with nothing and they escaped to the mountains and to the wilderness to find safety, but even then the Thaay were not satisfied. They hunted the people with weapons that rained fire from the sky and caused the land to sicken and cities waged war upon each other so terrible that the land shook and cracked, and the sun shifted in its place in the sky._

 _The people had given up all hope and waited only for death, when a stranger appeared and promised to lead them to a place of safety. He told them of a valley hidden in the tallest mountains where the Thaay could not find them and where they could start a new life. He warned them it would not be easy. They would have to set aside all selfishness and work together to survive. So the people gathered together everything they had and would need to start a new life and they followed the warrior, Ares, to this valley and here they began a new life._

 _Ares taught the people how to live again in harmony with the plants and the animals and their mother, the land. He taught them how to find metal in the ground and how to shape it into the tools they needed to grow their food and protect themselves. He taught them how to funnel the water that melted from the snow on the mountain peaks into irrigation ditches and lakes to sustain them. He taught them medicine and care of the sick. He taught them everything they needed to survive in their valley. The people listened and they learned._

 _They lived in peace._

 _When Ares saw that the people would thrive, he took them to the opening of the valley and together they built the wall that would prevent any danger from entering their safe haven. When this was done, he gathered all the people and told them they must do one last thing together. He told them they must swear an oath to each other that they would always put the good of the people before personal gain. When they had all done this, Ares turned to all the young men and told them to swear another oath to protect all the people with their blood and their bodies and with their very lives. When the young men had done this, Ares praised them and called them Protectors. He reminded them to be ever watchful. Then Ares walked through the door in the wall and disappeared into the Wasteland and they saw him no more._

The Matron pauses in her reading and looks up at the audience. When she nods her head we all join her in reciting the last line of the story.

 _We live in peace._


	5. Chapter 5

The story and plot are mine, the characters are not. No copyright infringement is intended.

AN: I have a beta! Thank you to BelleBiter for her help with this chapter and thank you to the readers, whose enthusiasm for this story keeps me writing.

The Protector

Chapter Five

EPOV

There is a hushed silence when she finishes reading, closes the book, and returns to her seat. After a moment, the Commanding Officer stands and walks to the center of the stage.

"Since the day that Ares left us, we have followed his teaching and his words," he begins. "We have remained ever watchful, we have placed the good of the people before our individual needs, and we have trained our sons to be protectors of our way of life. At the beginning of their nineteenth year, we have asked our young men to take the Oath offering their blood, their bodies, and - if need be - their very lives to insure that our valley and its people remain safe. This choice is not forced. Each man must willingly and freely give his pledge."

As far as I know, no one has ever chosen to not take the Oath. For a while, it was a frequent topic of discussion at night in our dormitory; we must have been around eleven or twelve at the time. Our young minds made up all sorts of punishments - from public whipping to being forced to live alone in the wastelands - as we imagined different horrific scenarios for someone who would do such an unthinkable act. Finally, Mike asked one of the trainers what would happen. The trainer had laughed, and told him not to worry about it because "We don't raise cowards in this valley."

That night, Mike had announced that the punishment for not taking the Oath was to have your balls cut off. After all, he had reasoned, cowards didn't have balls - and so, therefore, they must have been cut off. Our young minds cringed at the thought, and more than a few of us had gone to sleep that night cupping that important part of our bodies.

I don't remember any more nightly discussions about that topic. We found other more interesting things to talk about as we got older.

Those nights are over now.

All these thoughts flash through my mind, and I feel a slight sense of loss for the boys that we once were as I watch the Commander step forward and face all the seated cadets. "I ask the eighteeners to stand, please." We stand, and he continues, "If any man chooses to not take the Oath, now is the time to speak. "When no one moves or responds, he asks, "Then do you all freely, and with good intent choose to become Protectors?"

When we all answer in the affirmative, he turns to the audience. "You have witnessed that these cadets choose to pledge their oath this day to become Protectors. Does anyone have objections to any of these cadets, or reasons why they should not be allowed to take their Oath? If so, speak now." The audience is quiet, so he turns back to us. "Eighteeners, you will now advance."

We walk down the aisle to the front of the middle section where a row has been left empty for us. Our families are seated directly behind us, and I catch a glimpse of our parents and Alice before I sit down. I want to look for another face in the audience, but I know that it would not be appropriate.

After we are seated, the Commander turns to the remaining cadets. "The Oath ceremony marks the day when each of you advances in rank to your next year group. Seventeeners, you will become eighteeners. You may now advance." The seventeeners rise, and move into the row we have just vacated. He continues until each age group has moved into the next row of benches. The result is the last empty row where the eighters were sitting.

Once again, the Commander turns to address the audience as a whole. "Each year, when a boy reaches his eighth birthday, he leaves his family home and begins his training to become a Protector. It has been this way since Ares first instructed us, and we continue his teachings. You will now rise to honor our new cadets." As we all stand, the trainers bring in the new fighters.

It is a shock to see only two small boys being led onto the stage. We've all noticed that over time, each age cohort has had fewer and fewer members; but none of us had expected such a sharp and sudden decline. I wonder, briefly, how this will affect our valley's future. I'm sure, by the slight murmuring I hear behind me, that others are having the same reaction. The eighters are led to their row, and then we all sit again.

When everyone is settled and quiet, the head Matron rises, and comes to stand beside the Commanding Officer. Looking out over the audience, she begins to speak.

"This day we ask a great sacrifice from our sons. For the next ten years, they will dedicate their lives to protecting you, the people. They cannot do this by themselves. They will need your help and support. Do you swear to provide them with the resources they need to fulfill their task? Do you promise to provide them with food and sustenance? Will you give them medical care and attention when they are injured? Will you obey their orders if we are attacked or threatened? Will you honor the gift they give to you today?"

Her serious gaze roams over the people sitting behind us, and I can feel the weight of their agreement. I have never really considered the fact that this is a two-way pact we are making today, between ourselves and our society. Our food, shelter, clothing and everything we need to survive comes from them. We pledge them safety, they pledge our livelihood. Protectors and people, we each need the other to survive.

After the Matron returns to her seat, the Commanding Officer faces the audience once again. He pauses for a brief moment, and then asks Emmett to come forward. I'm not surprised when Emmett is the first to be called. The cadets who are going to be assigned as officers are usually the first to take their oath. It has been clear to everyone, for several years, that Emmett will be assigned as an officer.

The young girl who led our group in the procession comes to stand beside the Commander, holding a tray with several items. He picks up a small knife lying there and asks Emmett if he is ready to pledge his oath. When Emmett affirms that he is, the commander takes the knife and makes a cut across the bottom of Emmett's left palm. Emmett steps forward and, raising his left arm, begins to swear his oath. "I, Emmett, son of Esme, daughter of Emily..."

I am proud of my brother as I listen to him recite our lineage. His blood trickles down his forearm as I hear him swear by his life to protect the people. Everyone here knows he will make a fine officer. He is careful in his decisions, taking into account all viewpoints and information. I've never seen him lose his temper. Strong and steady, he inspires confidence.

I imagine that the future will be a happy one for him and for Rose. I know they have already committed to each other, and are planning on taking that commitment one step further tonight. They will most likely marry and have children one day. I smile to myself as I think about sharing that future with them, what it would be like to have nephews and nieces. I picture myself as a doctor, working in the city's clinic after my release from active duty. Perhaps Bella and I will live close to them in the same village and raise our children together. I envision family dinners and celebrations spent together.

My daydreaming ends when Emmett is finished speaking and the Commander confirms to the audience that Emmett has been assigned to the officer corps. Our parents and sister step forward to complete the ceremony. Father replaces Emmett's cadet sword with an officer's sword, and fastens a discipline whip at Emmett's side. The whip is mostly for show; it denotes the fact that he is an officer and a trainer and, as such, is the only Protector allowed to discipline a cadet, another Protector, or a civilian. Mother attaches an officer's insignia patch on the left sleeve of his tunic, and Alice pins his Oath Taker medal over his left pocket.

Although this is a serious occasion for all of us, it is hard to miss the happiness and satisfaction on Emmett's face as he turns towards the left side of the amphitheater where the rest of the officers are now standing to welcome him into their ranks.

One by one, the remaining members of our group are called to the front to pledge their Oath. Mike is also assigned as an officer; Tyler and Stephen join the engineering group; and Ben is added to the scientific division.

It is while listening to Ben give his pledge that I become aware of the growing pressure in my head, a loud buzzing in my ears. A sickening feeling begins to swirl within me as I watch two of my friends become archers, then three more assigned to the agricultural corps. Finally, it is just Garrett and me left on the bench, and I know-just as I know my own name-what is about to happen.

Dread fills me as I watch Garrett take his oath and become assigned to the medical division, because I know now that all my own daydreams of becoming a doctor, of working with Riley to solve the problem of the Fanger's venom, of finding a solution to our decreasing birth rate, of having a future with Bella...all that daydreaming was just wishful thinking. I know none of that will be coming true for me.

The audience is deathly quiet, as if they can sense what is about to happen, when the Commander calls my name and I step forward. Part of my mind is screaming that I don't want this. How can they ask this of me, after what has happened with Jasper? For a brief moment, I want to run as far and as fast as I can. My expression must show some of what I'm feeling, because the Commander gives me a stern look-and then grips my hand tightly. I know he understands that I have realized where I am about to be assigned.

With a steadying breath, I return his gaze and nod slightly. I watch as the knife cuts into my palm and the blood begins to flow from the wound. I raise my left arm to the people facing me as I begin to recite my Oath.

"I, Edward, son of Esme, daughter of Emily, daughter of Emma, daughter of Elaine, daughter of Eleni of the house and lineage of Elizabeth, do freely and without reservation pledge my Oath to the people of this valley, that I will serve and protect them, that I will forego all selfishness and place their needs before my own, that I will remain loyal and steadfast until my service ends. This I swear with my blood which I shed this day."

As I finish the words, I realize that the pressure in my head and the buzzing in my ears is gone. Instead, I'm filled with a sense of peace and acceptance. This is what I have trained for, worked for, and wanted all my life. The Oath is no longer a collection of abstract words that we repeat. Its meaning has seeped into my very bones and flesh. Although I know I am about to be asked to do something my mind does not want, I will not reject the request. The people are more important than my dreams or desires. I will accept whatever is asked of me. I will be the Protector they need.

I am calm when the Commander turns to the audience and announces that I have been assigned as a Ranger. A murmur makes its way through the crowd, and I see a few looks of shock and dismay. My parents come forward and begin to give me my Ranger's gear. In addition to a new sword, my father straps a short knife around my thigh. He loops a long, lethal bullwhip around my left shoulder and a quiver of arrows and a bow on my right shoulder. Mother attaches the Ranger insignia, and Alice pins my Oath Taker medal to my tunic.

Movement to my left catches my eye, and I turn to look at the Protectors seated under their division flags. There is only one Ranger who stands to welcome me. Only one Ranger remains after Jasper's disappearance six months ago. No one else has ever come back.

My gaze shifts up to my brother, who is staring back at me with a look of such sadness that my breath catches in my chest. As I watch, he begins to stand and, as though in slow motion, the rest of the Protectors stand the audience and all the cadets rise to honor the vow I have just made. They know, as well as I do, what this assignment means. I glance back at my Father, whose jaw is clenching to hide his emotion. My Mother's eyes are glassy with unshed tears and my little sister Alice is... smiling?

I've just been given an assignment that is tantamount to a death sentence, and Alice is smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

No copyright infringement is intended.

AN: Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. Your support for this story warms my heart. A special thanks to BelleBiter for working her magic on this chapter and to rita01tx for the recommendation on her blog, Rob Attack. Her banner is AWESOME!

The Protector

Chapter Six

EPOV

Years from now, if I have a years from now, I hope to be able to look back on this afternoon and see it with more clarity than I can now. I want to remember something good, something positive, something meaningful; because right now, everything is blurred, and dim around the edges.

I'm aware of the Commander dismissing the audience, and of my parents stepping away from me. Movement is all around as everyone leaves the amphitheater, and yet I seem to be standing still...caught in a vortex of disbelief, unable to grasp what has just happened, unable to actually feel anything. I turn towards the solitary man standing under the Ranger flag. The scowl on his face tells me he is not happy, as I make my way towards him. With a brief nod, he turns from me, indicating that I should follow him.

I stumble after him, sometimes losing him in the crowd. People walk in front of me, around me, and a few speak to me. I don't know if I reply. At one point, I see Emmett looking anxiously at me - but I turn away to head in the opposite direction. I'm going to a different part of the city than where the officers' headquarters and rooms are located.

The Ranger rooms are located in a back wing of the Protectors' barracks. I have only been here once before, when I was sent to find Jasper. My division mate is waiting when I finally arrive. He opens a door to a hallway lined with six doors. "Welcome to your new home, Oath Taker," he grunts out, waving his arm to indicate I should enter. "My room is the last one. You can take your pick of all the rest." I watch as he turns from me, walks down the hall, enters the last room, and slams the door.

His name is Hunter. I've never seen much of him, nor spoken to him before today. I've heard he has been on several missions to the Wastelands, and is nearing the end of his service. When he returned from his last mission, he was covered with scorched-looking scabs on his body and deep, claw-like marks on one side of his face. He was scary and frightening to the young cadets we were then, and he was more than one late night's topic of conversation in our dorm.

I'm left standing in the hallway, briefly wondering what I should do. Choosing a room seems like the logical thing, so I turn to the door nearest me. It is the last one on this end of the hall, the farthest from Hunter's. The room is nicer than I thought it would be, and contains several pieces of furniture. The most surprising is a bed with a real mattress, big enough for at least two people; it's more than twice the size of the cot beds we slept on in our dormitory rooms. There is also a small table beside the bed, with a single candlestick on top; beneath it, a drawer holds more candles, and a flint. A chest with drawers is on another wall. Above it are several wall pegs for hanging weapons. I take off my scabbard, whip, knife, quiver and bow, and hang them there. Two windows overlook an outside garden and let in some natural light.

The only other door in the room leads to a bathing area with a water toilet in one corner, a basin for washing along one wall, and a shower with a soaking tub beneath it on the opposite side. The thick stone wall separating the two rooms is broken by a small fireplace built into it. Its hearth opens into both rooms, designed to provide heat to each; a basket full of small pieces of split wood sits on the floor beside it.

The room is clean and neat, and very spacious compared to my previous quarters. In fact, I realize with a smile, this is the first room I have ever had to myself, since Emmett and I shared a room while we still lived with our parents.

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door, and I turn around to find a Matron standing there. "Matron Kate," I greet her, bowing my head respectfully.

"Hello, Edward, congratulations on your Oath Taking," she replies. "Have you selected this room for yourself?" When I nod yes, she continues. "Wonderful. Well, I have linens and blankets for your bed, towels and cloths for the bath, and several new uniforms for you with your insignia attached."

She motions behind her, and several young girls bring in the items. "Your laundry will be picked up weekly from the basket outside in the hall, and returned in the same basket. Your rooms will be cleaned and restocked once a week. If you need anything else, please tell the housekeeping Matron and she will take care of it. Again, I congratulate you on your Oath Taking, and I thank you for your pledge."

She smiles and turns to leave the room, but stops at the door and looks back at me. "Edward, I don't know if you know this or not, but this was Jasper's room. I think he would be honored that you chose it." Before I can answer, she is gone.

It only takes me a few minutes to make the bed and store my uniforms in the chest. I look around the room and think about my brother. He showered in the bathing room; stored his uniforms in this chest, and slept on this same bed. Did he feel the same way I do at this moment? Was he confused and worried about his future?

I shake my head to clear it of my thoughts. It is time for the midday meal, and my parents will be waiting.

The communal dining room is crowded when I arrive. It is a large room, capable of seating most of the valley's population. There is a smaller room to one side where the cadets and the Protectors eat on a daily basis, and both are almost full. Adjoining the rooms is a large kitchen with multiple cook stoves, prep areas and food storage facilities. Outside, in the courtyard behind the kitchen, are stone ovens for baking, next to several rotisserie pits for cooking the animals that we occasionally butcher.

The valley isn't large enough to support large groups of food animals, so we only have small herds of pigs, sheep, goats and chickens. In our history classes, we were shown pictures of cows, horses, deer and other animals that were raised before the Thaay destroyed our world. They had all died out before Ares led the people here. Our animals are carefully controlled to keep their numbers manageable, and the excess are harvested several times a year. One of those times is Oath Week.

The smell of roasted pork and chicken, freshly baked bread, and pots of cooked vegetables is almost overwhelming as I try to locate my family. My stomach growls with anticipation when I realize that it has been a long time since we had breakfast, and I am very hungry. Oath Week corresponds with our main harvest, and the array of cooked and fresh food - laid out on long serving tables which bisect the room - promises a hearty meal.

I find Alice, Emmett, and my parents seated at a corner table, waiting for me. No one says anything, as I pull up a stool and sit down beside Alice. The tension is so thick, I can feel it.

Surprisingly, it is Emmett who speaks first.

"Edward," he starts, "I... "

"Don't, Emmett," I say, holding up my hand to stop him. "Not now. I just want to...I don't know, just have a regular meal without thinking or talking about it." I look towards both my parents. "Please? We'll talk soon, just not now."

"Besides," I smile, turning to look at Alice, "I haven't seen or talked to my pretty sister in so long, and I want her to tell me everything that has been going on in her life."

A smile lights up Alice's face as she begins to talk about her latest training rotation. She proves to be quite the chatterbox as the afternoon continues, entertaining us with stories about her current assignment, which just happens to be in food preparation. We make several trips to the serving tables to fill our plates, and she enthusiastically explains how each dish is prepared.

Our parents don't say much, preferring to let Alice, Emmett and me carry on most of the conversation. Emmett teases Alice about her fascination with food, and then, laughingly, reminds her that he and I have done several training rotations in the kitchens. This leads to us to sharing stories about our mishaps dealing with cooking and, in particular, cleaning dishes. The afternoon wears on, filled with food, laughter, and family, depressing thoughts of Jasper and Ranger assignments forgotten for now.

Finally, Mother stands and says it is time for her to go. She places a hand on my shoulder, "Edward, she says, nodding, "We'll have that talk soon, okay?"

She wishes us both a happy Oath Night, then leads a giggling Alice away. I grin when I hear her admonish Alice to behave. Emmett and I are left sitting at the table with our father, who is shaking his head at Alice's antics. "That girl," he says, chuckling. "She will make an amazing woman some day."

"Now," he says in a more serious tone, as he turns back to us. "Now I get to speak to my sons about their Oath Night. Years ago, my father told me the same thing that his father told him, and that I am going to tell you - and, hopefully, someday you will be blessed to tell your sons the same thing. I know you have been taught the mechanics of sex, and the role of sex in the continuation of our species and our civilization. But tonight is also about the pleasure that men and women can find in each other. Remember: it is not just about your enjoyment, but her enjoyment, too. A Protector may invite, but it is always the woman's decision to continue."

"You have both shown your interest in two lovely, young women, and I presume that you have plans for how you want this evening to end. It is my duty, as your father, to remind you that people can and do change their minds. Our socials were designed as a way for men and women to find the person they want to commit to and raise children with. Over the next few years of your active service, you may find that your preferences change, and you wish to meet and enjoy other people. This is perfectly acceptable in our society. There is no shame when a woman or a man seeks a different partner."

He stops to look at each of us. "Now, having said all that I am required to say," he laughs and stands, "go enjoy yourselves." With a final smirk our way, he turns and leaves the dining hall.

Emmett and I are left sitting at the table looking at each other. "Well," he says, quirking an eyebrow at me, "you heard the man. Let's go!" At that, we both leave the table, heading to our own quarters to prepare for tonight's social.

Several hours later, I'm cleaned, scrubbed, shaved, trimmed, and dressed in a new uniform, standing with my friends as we wait for everyone to arrive. Small groups of older Protectors and women begin to filter in. We are greeted, congratulated and offered refreshments by the new seventeeners and eighteeners, who are there to serve and observe.

I smile to myself as I watch them, remembering how nervous I was. I suddenly feel so much older.

The room begins to fill up, as everyone waits for the Matrons to introduce the young women making their entrance into adulthood. It was at last year's social that Bella was introduced. Just as Emmett had the year before when he had first seen Rose, I stood there transfixed by the young woman I had known as a child.

I had seen Bella a few times over the years, of course; our valley is small enough that we know everyone. But interaction between male and female teens was limited to a few yearly celebrations, so it had been awhile since I'd spent any time around her. Seeing her there, grown up and wearing the white flower of maturity in her hair, had rendered me speechless. Emmett and Rose immediately caught on to what had happened to me, and teased me relentlessly all evening as I waited for an opportunity to approach her.

It was Bella, however, who walked over and greeted Rose, then turned to me and smiled. She had held out her arm to show me the slight scar from her broken wrist. "I believe you are still protecting me, Edward," she'd said, laughing. Then she sat down beside me, and we had talked, all that evening. At every social after that, she had always been there.

The introductions are made, and we are free to socialize and dance. Emmett spots Rose, and leaves me to join her as I begin to look for Bella. I make a circuit around the room, but I still don't find her. An eighteener serves me some of the honeyed wine that only the Protectors are allowed to drink. I'm surprised at how good it tastes.

As the party continues, I watch - as first Rose and Emmett, and then, one by one, my former fellow cadets - each leave with the woman of their choice. I watch and I drink. I drink and I watch, but Bella never appears.

Finally, when everyone has left and the Matrons are finished cleaning the room, I look up from my last mug of wine to find Matron Kate standing in front of me. "It's time to go to your room, Edward," she says softly. "Come on, I'll help you."

I try to stand, but the room sways dangerously. She drapes my arm over her shoulder, wraps her arm around my waist, and we stumble towards the door. I'm not sure how we make it to my room, but I find myself sitting on the edge of my bed as she helps me take off my boots and uniform.

A mug of water is placed in my hands as she tells me to drink it all. I try to look up at her to thank her, but my head is buzzing, and I feel myself falling backwards onto my bed. I know I'm mumbling something about Bella, but I can't seem to control my thoughts or my words. Kate places a cool, wet cloth across my forehead, and it feels wonderful.

When I reopen my eyes, she's looking down at me with a such a sad, understanding smile that I can't help but ask her if she knows why Bella didn't come tonight. She shakes her head 'no' before whispering that she is sorry, so sorry.

I barely hear her, though, before I slip towards sleep.

My last thought before it overtakes me is that Alice and her smile are the one good thing I will remember about today.


	7. Chapter 7

The Protector

Chapter Seven

EPOV

My sleep is haunted by faces and voices. Hunter's angry visage looks down on me at one point, his mouth twisted with tense words. Alice's smiling face and giggles flash through my dreams, and I see Kate's worried face and hear her repeated whispers of sorry, so sorry again. At one point, I think I hear my Mother's voice arguing with someone, and I feel her fingers lightly smooth my hair back from my forehead. The worst is a soft, sad crying that sounds like Bella. I call out to her, struggling to wake so that I can comfort her. The movement brings me to a groggy, half wakefulness. Rolling over to my side causes my stomach to clench and cramp; I barely make it to the toilet before I'm vomiting into it.

When I stumble across the room to wash my face, I find water and a small cup of sweet, mint flavored syrup waiting for me beside the basin. The water soothes my parched throat, and the mint settles my stomach. My sleep is deep and restful for the remainder of the night.

It is morning when I wake. It feels late, because I am used to getting up at dawn; but during Oath Week our schedule is relaxed, and - as a new Ranger - my training won't start for a few more days. It feels odd to have so little planned for the day. The ceremony for the Protectors who are leaving active duty is this afternoon, and the second social is tonight. Thinking about the social reminds me of what happened last night; I vow to stay away from the wine. It also makes me think of my disappointment that Bella did not attend. I know there are reasons why she might not have been able to come, but I can't control my feeling of betrayal. Maybe she will be there tonight.

After a shower to clear my head and wash the clammy sweat from my body, I dress in a clean uniform and make my way to the mess hall. From habit, I turn towards the table where the eighteeners sit, only to stop when I see another group sitting there. I'm no longer an eighteener; I've taken my Oath and joined the Protectors.

It is then that I realize just how much my life has changed. All my former cohort members are no longer sitting together; they are with their assigned group. I scan the room hoping that Hunter will be at a table somewhere so that I can join him, but I know he is not here. I'm left standing by myself, wondering what I am supposed to do.

The room is filled with the quiet hum of conversation, the clink of eating utensils, and the occasional soft laugh. No one seems to notice me standing by myself. Everyone is engaged in the talk at their table. For the first time in my life, I feel alone. I don't fit; I'm not part of a group. Anger, hot and intense, flashes through me. Anger that I've been put into this situation. Anger that none of the commanding officers foresaw this. Anger that none of the people I've spent years with seem to care that I'm standing here, by myself.

My gaze roams the room, settling on Dr. Banner. When he sees me, he nods briefly, before turning back to Garrett and continuing their conversation. It's the same with Ben at the science group, and Tyler at the engineers' table. Finally, I stare at the officers' table; eventually catching Emmett's eye; he starts to move, but the officer sitting next to him begins speaking, and he turns away from me.

In that brief instant, I hate my brother. I hate that he has the assignment he wanted. I hate that he spent the night in the arms of the woman he wanted. I hate that he will have the life I wanted.

The rage I feel makes my head hurt and my hands clench. My heart races, and my body begins to shake. Glancing around the room one more time, I notice that most of the cadets are staring at me, and several Matrons are watching me from the kitchen door. How is it that they are aware of what it is happening, but my fellow Protectors are not?

It's time to leave. When I arrive back at my room, I find Matron Kate standing in the hall, holding a small basket.

"I brought you some breakfast," she explains, offering the basket to me. I must look confused, because she continues. "I was in the kitchen and I saw what happened. Hunter quit coming to the mess hall after Jasper didn't return. With his injuries and the staring, sitting by himself seemed to make everything worse for him. I'm sorry; we should have thought about that before we let you go in there alone."

Her explanation is a bit confusing. I know it isn't her fault for what happened, even though she has apologized. I thank her for the food and for her care the night before. She laughs a bit when I tell her I've decided to stay away from the honeyed wine.

"Perhaps a little moderation might be wise," she agrees. "You know, Edward, if you like, you can eat your meals in the kitchen. There is a table just inside, by the door that leads to the herb garden. You are always welcome there; and since Alice is doing her rotation in the kitchen, you'll have the additional benefit of her entertaining conversation."

I laugh at her description of Alice's chattering. "Thank you, Matron. I believe I'll accept your offer."

"Good, good," she says, starting to walk away. "Oh, and, Edward; please call me Kate. I'm really not that much older than you, and 'Matron' is much too formal for friends."

I watch as she leaves the wing, and then enter my room to eat the food she has brought me.

Free time is something I'm not use to having. Our days were always planned and regimented, so I'm at a loss about what to do with myself. I spend some time cleaning and inspecting my new gear and take a long walk atop the city walls.

The walls are tall enough that I can see most of the valley I call home. It's much longer than it is wide, and ringed with snow capped mountains. The taller foothills are covered in trees we harvest for lumber and firewood. Below them, the orchards begin on the lower slopes, and continue on to the valley floor. The green expanse is interrupted by silvery streams of water, melting from the higher peaks and cascading down the mountain sides. I can follow their path as the water is channeled into irrigation ditches that spread out through the orchards and fields on the valley floor before reaching the valley floor to fill the lakes, where it is stored for later use.

I am still awed by the labor and the planning that went into building our water system. When we did our rotations in the engineering division, we studied the original maps and complex diagrams for the arrangement of channels, ditches, catch basins and lakes that control the snow melt. It was fascinating to me then, and still is; the plumbing system that brings the water into the city, even more so. Our histories state that Ares taught the people how to manage the water. He must have been an amazing engineer.

The valley floor is covered in fields of crops, and open pastures for the animals. Dark green rows of berry vines separate squares of ripe, golden wheat from the lighter green of pastures dotted with white specks of grazing sheep. Large areas of deep, reddish brown earth mark the fields where potatoes and other root vegetables are being harvested.

Stone roads that bisect the valley are crowded with groups of people leading small carts drawn by goats. The carts are piled with freshly harvested fruit and vegetables, being transported for storage in the cooling rooms carved deep into the cliff walls, behind the kitchens.

My gaze wanders back to the valley stretching out before me: to the sun glinting off the white snow; to the greens, golds, and browns of the fields and orchards; to the gray stone houses of the villages. It's beautiful, serene and peaceful, this place I know as home.

It is also filled with people who, unlike me, have spent their day working for the good of their neighbors by gathering the food that will feed us through the next year. At that moment, I am ashamed of my wasted hours. Tomorrow, I decide, I'll start helping with the harvest.

By late afternoon, I head towards the amphitheater for the Mustering Out Ceremony. I find my parents and Alice, and sit down beside her. Emmett is not with them; but, Alice explains, with a roll of her eyes, he is here - just sitting with Rose instead. Now that we have taken our Oath, it is permissible for us to sit with the single women, if we are invited to do so.

Twenty-two Protectors are leaving active duty this afternoon. The Head Matron and the Commanding Officer lead the ceremony that celebrates their service. Each one is presented to the audience and thanked for their years of dedication. A recounting of their accomplishments and achievements while serving is recited. Then medals and awards are presented. Most of them will stay involved in their area of expertise, but a few have chosen to pursue other interests.

Now that they are allowed to marry, there will be a rash of public commitment ceremonies in the next few weeks. They can chose to move to one of the villages where housing is available, or stay in the city. Hopefully, more children will be born in the next few years.

After the ceremony ends, we head to the dining hall for another family meal. The food is good and plentiful, and I find myself filling my plate more than once to make up for my meager breakfast and skipped lunch. Emmett doesn't join us; I assume he is eating with Rose and her parents. Alice is a bit more subdued than yesterday, but my parents make up for her quietness by laughing about my father's latest attempts at beekeeping and discussing the status of this year's harvest. Neither one mentions last night's social; and I wonder, briefly, if they know what happened, and are sparing my feelings by not discussing it.

As they prepare to leave, I tell my mother about my plans to help with the harvest for the next few days, and she smiles. "That's wonderful, Edward," she tells me. "I'll make lunch and you can join us. Perhaps, if you're lucky, Father will show you his bees!" She laughs as they walk away.

I watch them leave the dining room. I've never thought much about their relationship; they were always just Mother and Father, always there, always caring and supportive. It is evident that they care deeply for one another. Father once told us that he'd taken one look at her and had known she was the woman for him. He also confessed that Mother needed a bit of "carefully planned persuasion" before she had accepted his efforts to convince her that he was the right man for her. They married as soon as his active duty was over.

They remind me of Emmett and Rose. Thinking of them makes me feel guilty for my anger towards him this morning. I know none of it was his fault; in fact, it was not really anyone's fault. Perhaps the anger came from being ignored, from being in an uncomfortable position, and then realizing that no one noticed or seemed to care. No one, that is, except the Matrons, Kate, and some of the cadets.

The next hour is spent cleaning myself and preparing for the night's social. I'm a bit late arriving, and the music and dancing have already started when I get there. It doesn't take me long to scour the room for Bella; I'm disappointed when I don't find her. I'm determined to enjoy myself tonight, though, so I ask several women to dance. I make an effort to visit with my friends and to make small talk with some of the Matrons, including Kate. I don't see Emmett or Rose. The honeyed wine is limited to two mugs, along with plenty of water and other refreshments. After a couple of hours, I go back to my room alone.

The next day I wake up early, have breakfast in the kitchen with Alice, then walk to one end of the valley, where I harvest fruit all morning. I join my parents for lunch, and get a guided tour of Father's bee hives. I'm not sure the small amount of honey he has been able to collect is worth the number of stings he has acquired; he laughingly agrees with me when I tell him so. The afternoon is spent picking berries. By evening, I return to the city - tired, dirty and hungry.

I've never had a hot bath. Our dormitory was equipped with showers, but not tubs. We were taught to swim in the valley's lakes, and they were always cold. So, when I decide to treat myself to a long bath in the soaking tub, I'm unprepared for the bone-deep pleasure I feel when I slip into the water. The hot water feels wonderful on my tired muscles, and with my head tipped back into the headrest, I relax until the water cools and it is time to dress for the social.

Since I didn't eat an evening meal, I help myself to the food on the serving tables and enjoy a cup of wine. I don't even look for Bella. During the day, I had plenty of time to think about the reasons she might be unable to attend the socials. If she were sick or injured, it would have been simple enough to send a message by Rose, Alice, or even Kate. But she didn't.

The only other reason I can think of is that she has changed her mind, and the only reason I can think of for her to do that is my appointment as a Ranger. I can't fault her for deciding she doesn't want to get involved with someone who will probably leave in a few months and possibly never return, or who will come back damaged, like Hunter. It still bothers me that she couldn't just talk to me. I think I would have understood and accepted her decision. Perhaps I should be grateful that she has stayed away and has respected my feelings by not choosing someone else. Watching her leave with another man, would have been devastating to me.

I'm angry though; and the more I've thought about her and her absence, the angrier I've become. There is always the possibility that I won't be sent on a mission, and it could be several months or even years before I am. We still could have had time together. Nothing about the whole situation seems to make sense.

As I eat my food, I watch my fellow Protectors talk and laugh and enjoy themselves. It occurs to me that all of them have had a woman in their bed. All of them have experienced the pleasure of sex, except me. I want to know what it feels like to kiss someone, to touch their hair, to hold a soft body next to mine. We've all been taught how sex works, how to please a woman, how to bring her to climax. I want that experience, and I want it with Bella.

I know that no one would fault me for inviting someone else to spend the night with me. In fact, they probably expect me to; even Bella probably expects me to. The room is full of lovely young women I could ask. I could even invite Kate if I wanted to. But somehow I just can't make myself. I don't feel any desire for them.

And so I leave, angry and alone, to spend another solitary night in my empty bed.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Many thanks to Bellebiter, who cleans up my mess.

The Protector

Chapter Eight

EPOV

Over the course of the next few days, I settle into a comfortable routine: rise early; eat breakfast in the kitchen with Alice; harvest crops in the morning; have lunch with my parents; then back to the orchards or fields in the afternoon. Instead of returning to the city in the evening, though, I join my parents and Alice for supper to spend more time with them. Our meals are easy, comfortable; filled with laughter and conversation. When I finally return to my room, I enjoy a long hot soak in my tub... and sleep peacefully at night.

I do not attend the socials.

The physical work in long days outdoors has helped clear my head, and has gradually given me a better attitude towards the changes in my life. The mindless repetition of picking, cleaning, and hauling the crops is somehow very soothing. There is talk and laughter during the work; everyone tells jokes, or stories, or gossips about something a neighbor has said or done. I feel a sense of connectedness with the people and the community that I think now I may have lost during my years of training.

Spending time with my family has tied me closer to them, helping me appreciate their love and support. And Alice! Oh, my sweet sister, Alice. Father was right when he said she will be an amazing woman, because she is already an amazing person. I've never been able to spend so much time with her before. She entertains us with crazy stories, and giggles her way through the games we play together. Then, when I think she's just a silly young girl, she astounds me with an astute observation about something more complex and subtle than her age would warrant.

One evening, she questions me about our patrols outside the valley: what we do, what we see. I describe how the land slopes downward from the wall; how the vegetation changes from trees to shrubs and bushes until only sparse grass and vegetation grows as the land becomes drier and dustier. When I start talking about the cliffs that mark the boundary where the Wastelands begin, she interrupts to ask if they are like the cliffs behind the city.

"No, Alice. They aren't sheer like that. They're more rocky and gradual," I explain. "There is a drop-off and then a small, level plateau. Then they drop off again, until they reach flat ground. Climbing down wouldn't be easy, but it's doable, in stages."

We talk about the Wastelands; how they stretch out as far as the eye can see, broken only by a few rocky outcroppings. I tell her about the strange green glow that marks the edge of the horizon. When I describe the Fangers and their painful bites, she shivers with revulsion. But it's the description of the Yippers - their strong jaws, their teeth and claws, their attacks - that finally causes her to yell at me.

"Stop, Edward, stop!" she begs, tears starting to leak from her eyes.

I'm shocked when I realize how distressed she is. "Alice, shh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Don't cry. You know you're not suppose to cry."

"I know," she sniffs, nodding. "But, Edward... "She's quiet for a moment, looking up at me with her too-frightened eyes. "Is that where Jasper went? Did he have to fight those things by himself? Is that where they are going to send you?"

I can't hide the truth from her, so I nod. "I promise I'll come back though, Alice. I'll find Jasper, and I'll come back."

Alice sits silently beside me for a few minutes, then turns and asks me the question that will haunt me for days. "Why, Edward? Why go out there? Why even leave the valley? What is so important out there?"

"I don't know," I answer her truthfully. "The Thaay are out there, I guess. Maybe the officers need information to plan the best defenses for the valley."

Her snort of incredulity is loud, and accompanied by an elaborate eye roll. "Really, Edward? When was the last time the valley was attacked by the Thaay - or by anyone else, for that matter? Do we even know what they look like? And, besides," she continues, "if the Rangers never come back, of what use is the information they find?"

Her words make sense; I've thought the same myself. But I've spent eleven years being trained to follow orders, so I've never let myself consider the possibilities that the officers are wrong or misguided.

"You shouldn't go, Edward. When they order you out there, you should just refuse to go."

"You know I can't do that, Alice. I swore my oath, I promised to obey orders and protect the people. What you're suggesting is treason, and I won't be a traitor or a coward. Besides: I know you've never seen a public whipping as punishment for treason, but I have. It's bloody and painful and horrible, and you would be forced to witness it."

I shake my head, remembering the public whipping we witnessed as young boys; the sounds of the whip cracking through the air, the screams of the prisoner when it met his back, and the blood that flowed from the wounds. "You don't want that to happen to me." I continue. "I'd rather take my chances in the Wastelands. I promise you, Alice, I will come back. I'll find Jasper, and I _will_ come back."

"Well," she says, standing up with a huff. "I still think it's stupid to go out there, just like this whole crying thing. Stupid, just stupid!"

With a final huff, she stomps out of the room, muttering to herself. I'm left shaking my head, pondering the perplexities of thirteen-year-old girls.

Oath Week comes to an end, and I'm looking forward to starting my training and a new routine. After my conversation with Alice, I'm even more determined to find out everything I need to survive and return from a mission to the Wastelands. So, it's with a renewed sense of purpose that I enter the mess hall, hoping to find Hunter waiting for me at a table. He isn't there. Not wanting to eat by myself, I make my way through the kitchens to the table that I've been sharing with Alice. She's not there, either.

Kate appears with a full plate of food. After placing it in front of me, she sits down, facing me across the table. "Alice started her new training rotation this morning," she explains. "She'll be at the looms buildings for the next few months. I don't think she'll enjoy it as much as the kitchen rotation, however," she continues, laughing. "It's too loud in there for very much talking."

The fabric we use for our clothing is woven on large looms housed in several stone buildings at one end of the valley. Water wheels supply the power for the spinning spools that wind the thread, and for the shuttles that carry the thread back and forth across the looms. It is loud in there. It's also hard work. I know Alice will be fine, though.

As I eat my breakfast, I ask Kate if she's seen Hunter, explaining that I'm ready to start my new training, too; but she hasn't seen him, either. She promises to send him my way if she finds him.

With nothing planned for the day and no one to tell me what I am supposed to be doing, I return to my room, hoping for some inspiration. I find it there, hanging on the wall: my new weapons - particularly my whip, along with the bow and arrows. Gathering them, I head to the training area, looking for a weapons master to help me improve my skills.

I spend the morning at the archery range working on my distance and accuracy. My new bow is larger than the ones we carried as cadets, and requires more strength to draw. The arrows are different, too: longer, heavier, and finished with a larger, more deadly flint head; they're designed for traveling longer distances, and for delivering a fatal shot. The balance feels wrong, and I struggle all morning to adjust to the differences. The archery trainers give me advice and pointers; but by the time I stop to eat the midday meal, I'm tired, sore, and more than a little frustrated.

In the afternoon, I decide to practice with my whip. We had some instruction with the discipline whips that the officers carry; but those are short, and have a soft lash. This whip is the same in name only. The handle is wooden, carved to fit the hand, and eighteen inches long, wrapped in narrow pieces of rough leather for a better grip. A loop about six inches long is attached at the end of the handle, for securing the whip around the wrist. The lash is what distinguishes this whip from the discipline whips: it's long, twenty feet or more, and tipped with razor sharp pieces of shiny, black obsidian. I can only speculate at the damage it could inflict if handled correctly.

It proves to be extremely difficult to use. After a few practice swings that manage to wrap it around my legs, I go in search of some protective gear and a trainer to help me. The gear I find; the trainer I don't. The next few hours are spent trying to develop a swing that will let the full length of the whip curl out in front of me; but my technique is sorely lacking, and I end the afternoon even more frustrated than I was this morning.

The days that follow are more of the same. I eat breakfast in the kitchen, sometimes joined by Kate; I head to the archery range in the morning, and then train with the whip in the afternoon. It doesn't take long to see some improvement with the bow. My muscles adjust to the added strain, and within days my distance and accuracy increase dramatically. The trainers help a lot; and the new, longer bracers they give me to protect my inner forearms mean I no longer hesitate about drawing the bow to its full capacity. I'm even presented with a bigger quiver, filled with finely crafted arrows.

Progress training with the whip doesn't come that quickly, however. I still haven't located a trainer who is proficient with the long whip, able to teach me more than just a rudimentary technique. Most days, I quit after a couple of hours, too frustrated and angry to deal with it anymore.

After one particularly trying afternoon, I decide to take a walk around the valley to clear my head, put some distance between myself and that infuriating piece of leather. I've walked for a couple of hours when I find myself standing in front of my parents' house. Mother opens the door when I knock, and the welcoming smile on her face reminds me how much I've missed eating our meals together.

She pulls me into the house, and, after closing the door behind me, gives me an uncharacteristically hard hug. "Oh, hush you," she admonishes, when I give her a surprised look. "I'm allowed to hug my son in my own house. Now, come sit with me in the kitchen while I finish my cooking, and tell me everything that has happened in the last couple of weeks since you've started your new training."

Her remark about my new training is all I need to start the angry flow of words over the frustrations at my lack of mentorship and the general state of my life. The more she listens, the more I tell her about my loneliness, my lack of contact with my brother and former friends, the disappointment with Bella's disappearance. I share my feelings of inadequacy, my fear of the Wastelands, and what will happen to me there. The words don't stop as I pour out the grief I feel at knowing I may never start my own family, or have a chance to work for the life I thought I wanted; and, finally, I confess to her that I have even begun to question our society, its rules, my training as a Protector... even the very Oath that I have sworn just two weeks ago.

When I've run out of words, she stands, and quietly makes us both a cup of tea. Mother sets the mug in front of me, along with a small plate of cookies. "I have found," she says, urging me to drink, "that sometimes, the most difficult problems can be solved over a simple cup of tea and a couple of cookies."

The tea is hot, flavored with mint, and sweetened with a large spoonful of father's honey. The taste triggers a flash of memory from the night of the first social, when I found water and mint syrup waiting for me beside the basin. I had always assumed that it was Kate who had left it for me. "Mint?" I question, after taking a sip.

Mother nods and agrees. "It's always been my favorite, very soothing to the stomach and the mind." We sit quietly for awhile, sipping the tea and eating cookies. My thoughts are on that night, and on Kate, and I remember, again, her kindness to me.

"I know this is not really my business, Mother, but can I ask you about Kate? She's been kind, and more than helpful to me. Yet she's so young to be a Matron. Why did she chose to do that, instead of marrying and starting a family?"

"I can't tell you the specifics of Kate's story, Edward; but I can tell you that Kate once loved a young man, who was much like you. They had dreams and plans for a life together; but when he pledged his Oath, he was assigned as a Ranger. It was a shock to them both. They were determined, however, to have the life they wanted together. He trained and prepared himself, and they spent as much time together as was allowed. One day he left on a mission, and, like your brother, he never came back."

Mother pauses and takes a sip of her tea. I think about Bella for a moment, wondering if she knows of Kate's heartache, and if her disappearance is her way of sparing herself this same sorrow.

"Kate waited for him," she begins again. "After some time, she was approached by other men who were attracted to her, but she always turned them down. Last year when she turned twenty-eight and finished her active service to the community, she decided to become a Matron and supervise the training rotations for the young girls. She could chose to marry at anytime, if she wanted to; but I think she is still hoping that he will come back. Kate took a special interest in Jasper, just as she has you. She knows firsthand how difficult your assignment can be. I hope you're thanking her, Edward."

We are both silent for awhile, wandering in our thoughts. I think about Kate and her lost dreams; about my mother, and her loss of one son - and the possibility of losing another. I think about all the mothers, and wives, and sweethearts who have watched the young men they love leave and never return... sacrificed to the absurdity of war and violence.

The sadness on my mother's face reflects my own thoughts. I reach out and take her hand in mine. "Mother," I begin. "How do you...? How do women...? I mean, how do you continue?" I finally stutter out. "How do you survive the sadness?"

My mother raises her hand to my head, and gently pushes the hair off my forehead. I watch a myriad of emotions flicker across her face as she looks at me. Finally, she smiles.

"Oh, Edward. My sweet, wonderful son. I love all my children, but you have always been so special to me. If you only knew how long we have waited for you, for someone like you to ask that question. I know you are going through a difficult time right now. I know you are questioning every principle that you've been taught all your life; but I want you to know that I have faith in you. Whatever happens out there, I know you will survive. I know you will come back to us. Until then, I do what we have always done: we endure, Edward. We endure until we have the power to change."

AN: Thank you to the many readers and reviews who have shown their support for this story. You make my heart smile!


	9. Chapter 9

AN: No copyright infringement is intended. The characters belong to Ms. Meyers, the plot and all the mistakes are mine.

The Protector

Chapter Nine

EPOV

Later that night while preparing for bed, I thought about the evening I had just spent with my parents. Father and Alice came home, and we helped Mother prepare something for dinner. Then, after Alice went to bed, my parents and I had a long discussion about Hunter and my lack of training. They agreed that I should stop expecting him to approach me; it was time for me to find him, and demand that he do his sworn duty to prepare me for my duties as a Ranger. Father had also reminded me that I could file a formal complaint against Hunter, if he refused me.

In the meantime, I would continue with my weapons training, adding some hand-to-hand combat practice with my knife. I would also start using the archives to research the Wastelands, the Thaay, and any other information that would help me survive outside the valley wall.

I went to bed hopeful of a better tomorrow.

Locating Hunter was much harder than I expected. I had not seen him since the ceremony, but I had heard him in the hall and in his room a few times. He didn't seem to have a set schedule; coming and going at different times of the day and night. I wondered what he did to occupy his time.

After searching for him for several days, I had taken to camping out in the hallway in front of his door, but I was still unsuccessful in catching him. With my frustration growing, I realized the only other way in and out of his room had to be one of the outside windows. What I found made me even angrier; he wasn't just busy doing other things, he was actively avoiding me by using the window to enter and leave his room.

The next morning I enter the kitchens as early as possible, determined to find him. I remembered that Kate had once mentioned that the staring and the whispering had caused Hunter to quit eating his meals in the mess hall after Jasper didn't return. I hadn't thought much about it at the time, too wrapped up in my own feelings to worry about him; but now I realize he had to be getting his food and eating somewhere.

Kate was busy supervising several trainees, when I march up to her demanding to know where he was.

"Edward," she starts. "I don't think…"

"No, Kate," I interrupt. "I've had enough. This stops now. Tell me where he is."

One look at my angry, determined face must have convinced her that I was very serious because she sighs resignedly, and nods her head.

"The store rooms," she whispers, cutting her eyes over towards the door that led to them. "First one on the left."

"Thank you," I whisper back. "If it comes up, I didn't see you this morning. Your secret is safe with me." Nodding a goodbye, I leave her standing there and cross the room, opening the door and slipping quietly into the hallway behind it.

He is sitting at a table eating breakfast as I enter the room to confront him. "Well, boy," he laughs, looking up at me. "Finally, got your head out of your ass, and tracked me down, huh?" The scars on his face twist with the smirk he gives me. "Or maybe you just sweet-talked dear Kate into telling you what you wanted to know, but were too stupid to figure out on your own."

I know his words are designed to make me angry, and I am, but I am determined to maintain control of my emotions and to keep this discussion on a professional level. Father warned me not to say anything that Hunter could use against me, if I have to file an official complaint later.

"You can say what you want, but you are not going to make me angry," I tell him. "We both know you have a duty to train me for my assignment as a Ranger, and we both know you're not performing that duty. So, I'm going to sit down at this table with you and we are going to discuss the things I need to learn to survive a mission to the Wastelands, and then, together, we are going to plan a training schedule for those skills."

Looking at him confidently, I walk over to the table and sit down across from him. He stares at me before that smirk appears again, and then he simply says, "No."

"What do you mean, no?" I demand.

"It's simple," he laughs. "No, I'm not going to train you. I told them no,that I was done. I told them I wouldn't be responsible for training anymore young men, just to see them leave and never come back. So, you can forget the discussion, the schedule, the training, because I am not going to do it. No, just no."

Something he says stops my angry response. "Who?" I ask. "Who did you tell?"

He clearly wasn't expecting that question, because he takes a minute to gather his thoughts. When he looks at me the cocky, smirking look is gone, and a different, more tired Hunter answers me.

"I was there, Edward, in the assignment meeting," he explains at my questioning look. "As the only Ranger left, I'm considered the division head. You should know, that Banner wanted you, badly; in fact, he all but begged. Told them you would make an outstanding doctor, bragged that you had an innate ability to analyze a medical situation and find the appropriate treatment. But it was obvious that he wasn't getting you. I knew what those assholes were going to do to you, and I told them no; told them I was done."

"I meant what I said. I'm not doing it anymore. I refuse to be responsible for anyone else. So, no." He turns back to his meal and begins eating again, ignoring me sitting there.

I'm silent for a few minutes, thinking about all he has revealed. He's just confirmed what Dr. Banner had told me that night in the infirmary. It's everything that I thought I wanted. Of course, it doesn't matter now; I have my assignment and I'm determined to make the best of it.

He looks up in surprise when I say "No."

"No, you don't get to refuse your duty. Whether you train me or not, I'm still a Ranger. If I go and come back, it's your responsibility; if I go and don't come back, it's still your responsibility. Nobody gets to pick and chose what they want to do. Did I, did you?"

Even though I promised myself I would stay in control, I can hear my voice get louder as I get angrier. "I wanted to be a doctor, not a Ranger. I wanted to serve my time, marry Bella, have a family; none of that happened. Instead, I got assigned to a fucking coward, who refuses to do his duty, because he just doesn't want to," I sneer, leaning over and yelling into his face.

By now I've given up thoughts of controlling my anger as I feel the rage beginning to build; my hands are shaking and my heart thumping. I jump up, abruptly, knocking my chair to the floor. "You're a traitor, Ranger Hunter, and I intend to file a formal complaint against you with the Officer's Tribunal. You can stand in front of all your fellow Protectors and explain to them why you 'just don't want the responsibility'."

I turn to walk out of the room when I hear him behind me.

"Don't you dare turn your back on me, boy," he shouts. "And don't you dare call me a coward and a traitor, you ignorant, fool! I've been out there. I've seen more things than you can imagine, even in your worst nightmares."

"I was just like you once," he continues, as I turn to face him. "Thought I was in love, wanted to be an engineer, made all those happily-ever-after plans. When I came back all scarred up and not so pretty anymore, she took one look and decided maybe a Ranger wasn't what she really wanted. Just like that piece of ass you've been drooling over for the last year."

He laughs at the surprised look on my face when he mentions Bella. "Didn't think I knew, did you?' he taunts. "She's the smart one here, you know," he continues. "She cut the ties really quickly, saved herself a lot of time. Probably moved on to someone else already, at least she had the decency to not flaunt them in your face at the socials."

As soon as he starts talking about Bella, I completely lose the last bit of restraint I have left and begin shouting at him to "Shut up, just shut up!"

My head is beginning to pound as rage fills my body and my vision narrows to the taunting face in front of me. Hunter is still talking about Bella, but his words are garbled and unintelligible because of the buzzing in my ears, and the yelling coming from my mouth. I want to shut him up so badly. I want to pound my fist into that hateful face and make the words stop.

We are still yelling at each other when I realize I've been gradually advancing on him, and he's backed up towards the far wall. I feel myself drop into a crouch, as I pull the knife from its holder on my thigh. Finally he quits speaking, as he watches me intently, trying to gage my next move.

I'm so far gone in my rage and anger that I don't even realize who he is anymore. What I see when I stare into that disgusting, taunting face, are all the people in my life that have taken my choices away: the trainer, who whipped me for warning him about the Fanger; the other cadets, who taunted me for being half-Thaay; the officers, who decided I should be assigned as a Ranger; the woman I love, who has deserted me; the very society that controls and manipulates our lives for no apparent reason; and finally the Thaay, who in their greed and ignorance destroyed our world and our way of life.

That is what I see when I look at the person across the room from me. In my rage and anger I want to hurt that person, I want to stab my knife into that body over and over; I want to shut that jeering mouth by ramming my fist into it over and over.

The hate is overwhelming. My heart is pounding and my whole body is shaking. The pain in my head causes flickers of flashing light to cloud my vision. Somewhere there is a rational part of my brain telling me to stop, that this isn't real, but I ignore it.

As I angle myself slightly forward into an attack stance, I watch as his right hand slowly reaches for the whip wrapped around his left shoulder. His eyes never leave my face, when, with a flick of his wrist, the whip slithers across the floor behind him. His movements are fluid, controlled; his look cold and calculated as he watches me.

When I shift again, it happens. With a quick motion of his wrist and arm, the whip leaves the floor and sails through the air towards me. I watch as the tip twists in flight, the embedded obsidian glittering as it catches the light in the room. It is deadly, dangerous, and will shred the left side of my face to the bone when it hits me. There is no way to avoid it and too little time to escape it.

A screaming, "No" bursts from my lips as I throw my left arm up to protect my face. The pain in my head reaches a crescendo as I use my "feelings" to push with everything I have against that tip. And then it stops.

Everything stops; the pain, the shaking, the rage. The whip is stretched out in the air, frozen in place, not moving. I take a few steps away from it, glancing around to try and understand what has just happened. Hunter appears to be frozen too, all but his eyes, which are watching me as I move around. In the hallway, two Matrons have stopped, mid-step and mid-conversation.

When I walk outside, I find no movement there, either. The trees are still, smoke hangs unmoving in the air above the stone ovens, a young girl, bent over harvesting herbs, has stopped mid-reach. Even the dust motes have stilled their movement in the sunshine.

It is deathly quiet. The only sounds, my ragged breathing and footsteps as I return to the storeroom where the whip is still hanging in the air. It yields to my touch when I push it to the floor. I look towards Hunter, although he hasn't moved his body, I can tell he is aware of what is happening because his eyes track my progress as I walk towards him.

"Do you know what has happened?" I ask him.

He blinks rapidly.

"Do you know how to make it stop?"

He blinks rapidly again.

"What do I need to do?"

He closes his eyes.

"Don't ignore me. I need your help, Hunter. What am I supposed to do to make this stop?"

By now I have started to panic. I pace back and forth across the room, my mind a jumble of thoughts and possibilities. What if I can't undue whatever it is I have done? What if everyone stays this way? Oh dear, Ares, maybe I really am half-Thaay.

I turn back to Hunter again. "Come on, man," I plead, "Help me!"

He opens his eyes and once again, slowly and deliberately, closes them. When he repeats the same action a second time, it dawns on me that he wants me to close my eyes. So I do. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and relax into the same state that I use to check on my surroundings when we are on patrol. I send out small tendrils of awareness, what I find shocks me to my core. We are in a bubble, a clear bubble of some type of force. On the outside, everything is normal and life continues. On the inside, everything, even time itself, has stopped.

I can feel the edge of it with my mind, and I gradually try to pull it back towards me. There is some resistance, at first, and then with a 'pop' that I can both feel and hear, it snaps back inside me.

I'm suddenly exhausted and stumble to a chair to sit down. Out in the hall, I hear the Matrons continuing their conversation as they move away from us. A faint whiff of wood smoke drifts on the breeze through the open door. I hear footsteps approach and look up to see Hunter smiling down at me.

"What the fuck was that?" I ask.

His smile widens and he chuckles. "That, Edward, was you, finally doing what you've been capable of doing all along."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" I demand, frowning up at him.

"It means," he replies, "that you are ready to start your training."

AN: Dear Readers, Thank you, again, for your support. The Protector has been included in the voting for the Fic Dive 2016 story of the year on A Different Forest website. There are some amazing stories listed, and I'm honored just to be included. You can vote only once, but you can vote for as many stories as you want. If you want to include my little tale as one of your picks, I would be most appreciative.

The hubby and I are road tripping until the middle of August, so I can not promise any updates. Thank you for your patience.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: No copyright infringement is intended. Thanks to Bellebiter, who makes my words so much easier to read! All remaining mistakes are mine.

The Protector

Chapter Ten

EPOV

Loud pounding on my door wakes me early in the pre-dawn darkness of the next morning. "Enter," I mumble, stumbling out of bed towards the door.

"I can't, boy, you've got it locked!" Hunter yells in reply. "What are you afraid of?" he laughs, striding into the room, after I finally get the lock undone. "Think the big, bad Thaay are going to come get you in the middle of the night?"

I roll my eyes when he gives me his signature smirking grin. I'm not sure why I locked my door when I went to bed last night. I've never had my own door to lock; and before yesterday, never even thought to use the lock here at all. Maybe after everything that happened, I was feeling more than a little unsettled–and the lock somehow made me feel safer…or even a bit more normal.

I was far from normal, however. After Hunter told me I was ready to start training, he made me try to form the bubble–or shield, as he had called it–several times again. It was not easy. The few times I had managed to get it to stay in place had only been when I felt physically threatened. It was exhausting. He finally took pity on me and sent me to the kitchens to get something to eat. When I returned, he discussed my training schedule, and listed all the things I needed to learn and accomplish to prepare me for a mission.

Then, when I could no longer concentrate or even hold my head up, he sent me to my room–warning me to get some rest, because we were starting early the next morning.

I didn't realize early meant while it was still dark.

After Hunter barks out another laugh and a reminder that we have things to do today, I stumble to the toilet to relieve myself, wash my face and hands, and clean my teeth. He's waiting with a pile of clothes when I reenter my room.

"Put these on, and meet me in the kitchens," he commands, tossing them on the bed and turning to leave the room.

"What are they?" I ask his disappearing back.

"Your new training uniform. Now hurry up, you're wasting time."

I've never seen clothing like this before. Instead of the woven sheep's wool or linen cloth that most of our garments are made from, the pants and shirt appear to be knitted, like a pair of socks. They are incredibly soft, and I realize they are made from the super-fine belly hair of a goat. Each piece must have taken hours to prepare the yarn, and hours after that to knit.

They also look extremely small; but when I pull the pants on, they stretch over my legs and fit like a second skin. The long-sleeved shirt pulls over my head and fits the same way. There is a wide band of tighter knit around the end of each sleeve, the waist, and the ankles of each pant leg to keep them in place.

Although the clothes are soft, warm, and comfortable, they are also snug, very snug. Every muscle, ridge, and bulge is clearly visible; I feel almost naked wearing them. Not wanting to anger Hunter by keeping him waiting, I pull on a pair of socks and my boots and make my way to the kitchen–thankful that it is early, and no one is awake yet to see me.

Kate and Hunter are sitting at a side table in the kitchen when I enter. Kate's eyes widen when she sees me, her face turns red and she quickly turns away, covering her mouth as she tries to hide the laughter shaking her shoulders. Hunter doesn't even try to hide the loud guffaws that escape him.

Realizing I've been played, I quickly take a seat at the table, trying my best to hide the lower part of my body. "Asshole," I mutter, glaring at Hunter.

He's still laughing as Kate reaches over, slapping his arm, telling him to quit torturing me and give me the rest of my clothing. The smile that brightens his face as he looks at her is almost worth bearing the brunt of his joke. He looks younger, happier, and more at ease than I've ever seen him.

On the table beside him is a folded piece of cloth; he hands it to me, telling me to put it on, then turns back to her–asking if she's happy now. For a moment, they hold each other's gaze, a soft smile on their faces.

Their moment is broken when I pull on the fitted over-shirt that he has given me. It has numerous pockets and loops which I start to examine before Kate places two large plates of food in front of us. Each one is piled with eggs and pieces of cured pork, thick slices of toasted bread topped with goat cheese and honey, and a serving of fresh berries. I've never had a breakfast with this much food before and never one that included eggs and meat at the same time.

She shrugs at my questioning look, only telling me that I need the extra food for my training before wishing me luck, and then quickly walking away. I am really hungry, and the food disappears quickly. When we are finished with breakfast, Hunter stands, explaining we have some important things to do and people to see.

Our first stop is at a small building located on a side street in the back part of the city. An older man and woman greet me by name when we enter. I respond with the respectful, 'Sir and Madam' that we've been taught to use with anyone older than ourselves, and not in Protector or Matron uniforms.

Hunter takes a seat on one side near the wall when they ask me to step up onto a small platform in the center of the room. For the next two hours, I'm measured and fitted with a variety of clothing pieces that make up part of the gear I will be using if I am sent into the Wasteland.

Besides the soft knitted undergarments that the gentleman, who has introduced himself as Eleazar, calls thermals, I'm given a pair of snug pants made from thin, flexible, dark brown pigskin that will fit over the knitted pants.

The over-shirt that Hunter has already given me is made from a thick, dark brown linen, with multiple pockets and loops for holding dried food and other supplies.

In the middle of the shirt back is a wide pocket, approximately eighteen inches wide by twenty-four inches deep, which holds a water bladder. The bladder is made from the tightest woven fiber I have ever seen. It has been soaked in beeswax and pressed with a hot iron repeatedly until it is soft, pliable and water proof. One corner has an elongated opening where it can be filled. The bladder comes with a drinking tube which is inserted in the opening, then passed over the shoulder through a holding loop, and ends with a mouth piece. Hunter explains that I will be able to drink hands free, and on the run, if I have to.

I'm also given an ankle-length, hooded, woolen cloak that has been dyed in mottled browns and tans, designed to blend with the dusty ground of the Wastelands. Attached to one side of the hood is a woven mesh breathing mask which can be fastened across my nose and mouth to keep out dust and dirt. The cloak will not only keep me warm at night, but can be used as a camouflaged covering to hide beneath, if need be.

The last article of clothing is a pair of knee-high pigskin boots that Eleazar calls moccasins. Instead of a hard leather sole, the moccasins have a soft inner and outer sole. Between the two layers is almost an inch of densely packed felted wool; the foot area is also lined in the same felted wool. They are a very snug fit, and the laces from the ankle to the knee allow for size adjustments so they can be worn over or under the pants and thermals. They feel wonderful when I walk around the room in them. Hunter tells me I will love them when I start running.

After thanking Eleazar and his wife for my clothing, we return to my room, where Hunter tells me to change into a my regular daily uniform and meet him in the weapons training area with my whip. The rest of the morning is spent teaching me how to control the lethal weapon.

Hunter proves to be a patient and thorough teacher, and an expert whip master. Using a whip with the same handle but a shorter lash than ours, he demonstrates three different methods of starting the whip strike–all while explaining the pros and cons of each method. When he thinks I've practiced enough, we move on to the longer whip, donning our protective gear first. He tells me not to worry about strength or accuracy; those will come later, after I've perfected the beginning movement. Finally, when my arm refuses to move another time, he calls a halt, and we return to the city for our mid-day meal.

In the afternoon, we head to the archery range. My distance and accuracy are excellent, he tells me, but he wants me to work on firing speed. Hunter sets up a variety of targets; some large, some small, all at different distances and angles. Then, after standing a quiver of arrows on the ground in front of him, he begins to shoot. I've never seen anyone fire so many arrows in so little time; not even seeming to aim before loosening one arrow and reaching for another. He shoots at the closest targets first, then works outward towards the farthest ones. All the while, he is moving, pivoting, angling his body for the best shot.

When every target sports a quivering arrow through it, he stops and turns to me. "Your greatest threat are the Yippers, Edward. They'll come at you in packs and they won't be standing still, giving you time to aim and shoot. The smaller, faster ones come first; you'll have to take them down before they can circle around behind you. The bigger, stronger ones will move in next; and when they get close enough, they'll leap. Once they're on you, you'll be lucky to survive with just these," he says, pointing to the scars on his face.

The thoughts of facing down a pack of Yippers on my own sends a shiver of fear down my spine. I've never faced even a single one before; I've always been with my cohort. "What happens when all the arrows are gone?" I ask, noticing the half-empty quiver still standing on the ground.

"You switch to the whip before that happens. Used correctly, it can maim several Yippers at once. You don't have to kill them; just disable them enough that they can't get to you. Your sword and shield are your next line of defense and then, finally, your knife."

I think about what he has just told me, picturing in my mind how the action would unfold: how the weapons could be used in sequence, and to the best advantage. It occurs to me that I might have another weapon at my disposal.

"And my bubble?" I question. "How can I use it to stop an attack?"

"That is exactly what we are going to be finding out over the next few weeks," he answers. "We need to find out how far you can extend it, how long you can maintain it, if you can use your arrows inside it, or if they will be frozen, too. Lots of possibilities to explore. But not now," he adds. "Time to quit for the day. Tomorrow will come soon enough."

I'm awake and dressed in the loose tunic, pants and the moccasins that Hunter told me to wear when he pounds on my door the next morning. He hands me dried fruit and strips of dried meat, as well as a flask of water, as we make our way out of the city towards one end of the valley. While we walk, he explains that I'm going to start each day with a training run, consisting of alternating fast sprints and slow jogging.

The strategy is to stay far enough ahead of the Yippers that they can't get close enough to attack. "They're fast," he explains, "but they can't maintain that speed for very long. If you run as hard as you're able to keep out of their reach, you can slow down to a lope, then put a lot of distance between you and them when they have to stop and recover."  
We reach a dirt path and he points out a tree about a third of a mile away. "Run as hard as you can to the tree," he points, "and then jog back here to me."

It doesn't take long into my run to appreciate the genius of the new moccasins. They are light and flexible, but provide enough cushioning to protect my feet from the rough ground. I repeat the running-jogging sequence, over and over and over. When I finally collapse to the ground, refusing to take another step, Hunter asks me to form my bubble. I concentrate, trying to envision it surrounding us, trying to push it out with my mind; but I'm too weak, too hungry and exhausted to form anything.

Hunter squats down to face me. "That answers one question about your shield: if you're tired, you can't make it work. That's why we still need to concentrate on the other weapons, but we also need to figure out how to control it, because, ultimately, this one thing may be what saves your life, Edward."

Over the course of the next few days, we settle into a schedule that works for us. Every morning, just as the sun rises, I meet Hunter in a secluded area at one end of the valley, where we work on my ability to form and manipulate my shield.

With practice, it gets easier to do. I learn to expand and contract it. Everything that is inside the bubble is stopped, except for me. I can touch and move things around; but, unfortunately, as soon as an arrow leaves my bow–or the tip of the whip moves away from me–they also freeze. Then one day, we discover that I can wrap it around myself and nothing can penetrate it. Hunter tests it by using his fist, sword, arrows, and whip…but everything bounces off. He is almost giddy with the discovery, and I can't help but feel a sense of elation that I have my own personal body shield.

After we finish with the shield, I run for an hour, alternating between sprinting as fast as possible and jogging to give my muscles a rest and settle my breathing. My run takes me back to the city kitchens, where I join Hunter in the mess hall for a late breakfast. Then we head to the archery range, and I concentrate on shooting as many of the moving targets that Hunter as designed, as quickly as I can.

I follow this with some one-on-one sword and knife work with a weapons trainer. Then, after lunch, it's a much longer session with the whip. One afternoon, we quit early and he takes me to the archives, where he shows me a shelf of old books, manuscripts, and journals he wants me to start reading. Another time, we simply sit in the courtyard and discuss strategies with my shield and different weapons. And sometimes we just talk, getting to know each other on a more personal level.

I usually have time for a long soak in my tub before joining him for the evening meal in the mess hall, where–much to my surprise–he now insists we eat. I'm glad we do, because I get to see and visit with Emmett and some of my friends from our cohort.

Life feels more normal. And, although I'm not completely happy, I am content.

AN: Several readers had questions from chapter 9 about Edward being half-Thaay. He isn't. In chapter 1, he remembers being disciplined by a trainer, when he uses his "feelings" to warn about a nearby Fanger. The trainer accuses him of being half-Thaay, and he gets teased and bullied because of it. That worry has been in the back of his mind and has caused him to be cautious when using his gift. I'm sorry for the confusion. The reference in chapter 9 was not very clear.

The hubby and I are finally home, after 5 weeks on the road. Had a great time, but so glad to sleep in my own bed again and to get back to this story. Thank you for all the kind words and support. Janet


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Thank you, Bellebiter, for your work on this chapter. Your support and encouragement mean so much to me.

The Protector

Chapter 11

EPOV

Days of training turn into weeks, and weeks turn into a month…then two. My skill with the bow, whip, and blades improves dramatically, and Hunter calls a halt to the individual weapons practice. Instead, we concentrate on using them in sequence, or all of them together.

In an open field, he arranges targets: small and low to the ground, that can be moved using a series of ropes and pulleys. I practice taking them out–using first the bow, then the whip, and finally my sword and knife. At times, he tells me to use my bubble to stop their advance, and to give myself a chance to recover.

One day–tired, and more than just a little hungry and stressed–I freeze everything; proceeding then to walk to each target, only to hack them into pieces with my sword. Hunter's stunned face, when he sees what I have done, is enough to make me double over in laughter. He soon joins me; and we both sprawl on the ground, releasing our tension in recurring bouts of laughter.

When we finally stop, he pats my shoulder and tells me I'm finished with target practice.

Not spending hours practicing with my weapons frees up even more time for me to run. Besides researching in the archives, it has become my favorite thing to do. I run daily; sometimes for short, fast sprints; more often, though, for a few hours at a time. I've found a comfortable pace that eats up the distance, but still leaves me with plenty of energy to defend myself, if need be.

After a close encounter with a very angry Fanger during one of my morning runs through the valley foothills, I keep my mental awareness open at all times. I also practice snapping my shield into place on my runs, so that it becomes second nature to open and close it with more ease. Constantly keeping it up and in position for long periods of time drains my energy, however; so, unless I feel threatened, I let it remain poised, but inactive.

On advice from Hunter, I wear all of my Ranger gear–with the exception of the soft, knitted thermals, which are too warm for day wear, and are stored rolled up in one of the pockets of my over-shirt. I also carry enough dried food for a week, as well as a full water bladder.

My whip is secured with a strap around my left shoulder; my bow, quiver and sword on my back. The knife, in its holster, is strapped within reach on my right thigh. The extra weight takes some getting used to, but soon I no longer notice it.

The archives have become my passion, and I spend every afternoon pouring over old maps, journals, and books containing descriptions of our world before the Thaay wars destroyed it. These records contain drawings of huge cities with towering buildings, where thousands of people lived. Vehicles with wheels carried people and supplies from place to place on the ground, and there were even metal cylinders called 'airplanes' and 'spaceships' that moved through the air.

As fascinating as these documents are, it is an old book filled with images called 'photographs' that makes my heart hurt for all that we have lost. The pictures are in color, and so vividly real-looking that I know they cannot be just drawings on paper. They show a world of such beauty that my mind reels: miles upon miles of towering green trees, and acres of blooming wildflowers…all in colors so brilliant, that I can hardly believe now they once truly existed.

There are more photographs of rivers that look something like our irrigation ditches, but bigger; they seem filled with beautiful, clear running water. Then there are the oceans: wide expanses of sparkling, deep blue water topped with foaming white waves, ending in broad stretches of curved, sandy beaches. My mind simply can not imagine the amount of water those oceans must have contained.

The biggest surprise is the sky: it is blue, and filled with clouds–some white and fluffy, like sheep's wool; and others dark and ominous, called 'rainclouds.' Apparently, at one time, water fell from these heavier clouds in the sky, and was called 'rain.'

Some of the photographs seem to be taken from somewhere far above our world, which I now know is called a 'planet.' The wording below the picture explains that they were taken from a 'space platform' named Aether. The planet they show is covered in blue ocean and white clouds and green land. It is beautiful beyond words.

There are a few people in some of the photographs. I'm surprised to find that they look very much like us. Their clothing is different: much more colorful, and their skin and hair have more variety than ours. But, on the whole, they could show up at our wall and no one would believe they were from another time.

All of this is new to me. We were never taught any of this information in our classes growing up. I cannot imagine why; but it is possible, that the books have been forgotten, and lost on the back shelves. They are certainly very fragile, and I am careful as I turn the pages to study them.

One day, Hunter joins me and places a large piece of closely-woven linen on the table in front of me. When he unrolls it, I discover that it is a map–a beautifully drawn and colored, finely detailed map. A large, nearly round landmass fills most of the center. The artist has used browns and dull grays to draw the features of the land. It appears to be surrounded by cliffs, which drop off into a wide, flat, barren expanse, broken in a few places by what look like rocky outcroppings. In the center of the map is a green, oval shaped crater surrounded by tall, snow-capped mountains. Tiny lettering on the tallest mountain reads 'Olympus.' I realize, with surprise, that I am looking at a map of our valley and the land surrounding it.

As my gaze roams over the map, I find more green craters that appear to be other valleys. When I glance up at Hunter, I find he is watching me closely. "These are other valleys?" I question.

He nods.

"With other people?"

Another nod.

The information leaves me speechless. I knew that in the past, lone traders had sometimes showed up at our gate, but I had been a young cadet and never thought too much about where they might have come from, or if there were more people out there, somewhere. Our trainers and teachers never spoke of other valleys or of other people.

Questions crowd my mind. There are so many things I want to know, but I have no idea what to ask first. "Why weren't we told this? Why is it a secret? Do they know about us? How many people are out there? Do they live like we do? Have you been to these valleys?" They tumble out of my mouth, one after another, until Hunter holds his hands up to interrupt me.

"Slow down," he laughs. 'I'll answer your questions if I can, just one at a time. What do you want to know first?"

I'm considering all the possibilities when my eyes drop to the object that started this discussion. I decide to start there. "The map," I point. "Who made it, and how old is it?"

I can tell he is surprised by my first question, but he answers me. "It's at least several hundred years old, and we made it."

"We?"

"Rangers," he explains. "Every time a Ranger goes on a mission, the information he gathers is added to this map. Every time your cohort completed a scouting sweep, the information you brought back was added to this map. I know you think Rangers just go to the Wastelands to spy on the Thaay; that's basically what you've been led to believe, but we do so much more than that. For years, we were the ones who kept contact with the other valleys."

Something pops into my mind at his words. "The traders that used to come to the wall. They weren't here just to trade, were they?

"Yes and no. We did trade with the other valleys; sometimes it was cloth, or food, or different seeds. Sometimes it was medicine. But the main reason was to keep in touch, to share information about what was happening in each of the valleys and in the Wastelands."

"But I haven't heard of anyone coming here in a long time. Are they still alive? Have they been here, or has that been kept a secret, too?

Hunter doesn't answer me immediately. When I glance at him, he is studying the map. "Look at the map, Edward. Can you find the answer to your question there?"

I lean over the table, staring at each of the valleys intently. There are six more of them. Some appear to be larger, some are smaller. Each one has a name in tiny lettering beneath it. I read an 'Argoess' and a 'Dellfi.' The valley closest to the cliff edge is labeled 'Korinth.' All are almost round or oval shaped, and surrounded by mountains. They are, like our valley, natural fortresses.

After a few minutes, I realize that none of the mountains surrounding the other valleys is topped with white. "Snow," I observe. "None of the other valleys have snow on their mountains. Unless they have another water source, the crops will fail and the valley will dry up."

"Which is exactly what has been happening," Hunter replies, nodding. "A few of them struggled on. They managed to dig deep wells and find water. But it is only delaying the inevitable: our world is slowly drying up."

"And the ones that didn't find any water? What happened to them?"

"Some chose to stay in their homes until they died of old age; but most came here, or to other valleys. It took a long time; this didn't happen overnight. They came gradually, a few at a time, bringing what little they had left from their valleys. We welcomed them, and shared our food and resources. They became part of us."

Finally I ask the question I know he has been expecting. "How many valleys still have people living in them?"

"The last time we checked, only one. Korinth," he answers, tapping the map on the valley closest to the cliff edge. "It's at a lower elevation than we are. There is an underground river that flows down from our mountains to that location." He drags his finger along the map, tracing a line from our valley to Korinth, on the other side. "They managed to dig deep enough to find it."

There are striations on the map along the route he just traced. Ridges and furrows are drawn on the landscape; narrower at one end, and widening as they pass by Korinth. They continue on to the edge of the landmass, where they cut through the cliffs–before spreading out to gradually disappear, into the barren land beyond them.

"What is this?"

"It's called 'Ares Vallis,' he replies.

"Ares' Valley?"

"Not exactly," he replies. "In the old language 'vallis' meant a valley or gorge created by frozen or running water. So, it's actually a deep canyon carved by runoff from the snowmelt of the mountains surrounding our valley. As our climate has gotten drier, there is less snow to melt–and the water has gradually gone underground. There are a few places where it is closer to the surface, though, and you can find water by digging a few feet into the soil." He points to several small blue dots on the map. "But it's also where the wildlife, including the Yippers, come to drink. You'll have to be very alert and very careful if you need to get water there."

I examine the map carefully, realizing the blue dots are connected by a small trail leading from our side of the canyon to the city on the other side. This must be the route used by Rangers to visit the valley.

"You said 'the last time we checked,'" I quote him. "How long ago was this, and who is the 'We' that checked?"

"It's a long story, Edward," he sighs, sitting down in a chair across the table from me.

"I have nothing but time." He cocks an eyebrow at me as I get comfortable in my chair, facing him.

"It's been twelve years since I became a Ranger," he begins. The numbers click in my head, but he holds up a hand, silencing me before I can interrupt. "I know," he continues. "I'm past the age for mustering out; but when you are the only one left in your division, Edward, they don't let you retire."

"Anyway," he continues, "two years after I was appointed, another young man was added to our division. His name was Liam, and, like you, he had some special abilities. Nothing like your shield, though; but he was fast, and incredibly talented with a sword and a knife. He usually fought with both of them at the same time; I never saw anyone defeat him. He also had an innate ability to locate water. A trait that served him well as a Ranger."

"It had been a year or two since anyone had arrived from Korinth, so it was decided that we would check on them. Since there were by then three Rangers, they sent both Liam and me on the mission. We made it there safely, and found the people managing to get by. They were struggling to locate places to dig their wells to find more water, though. Liam was the able to find several areas where the water was closer to the surface, and we stayed a couple of months helping them construct the wells. One of their engineers had managed to replicate a device called a 'windmill,' that used slanted blades to catch the wind and power a pump, bringing water to the surface. When we left, they had plenty of water and enough food to last them until the next harvest."

Hunter pauses then, standing to get a drink from the pitcher and mugs that are sitting on a side table. When he returns to his chair, he sits silently for a moment before looking up at me. I can see, by the discomfort on his face, that the next part of the story is going to be hard for him to tell; but he takes a deep breath, and continues.

"We were about half way across the canyon on our way home, when somehow Liam managed to stumble across a half-buried rock. There was a social in a few days, and we had been teasing each other about the young women who were waiting for us–and about the activities we had planned for them that night. We were both laughing, not paying close attention to where we were walking, and, when he tripped, he fell hard against another rock. The crack of his leg breaking was so loud that I heard it, even before he screamed as the bone tore through his flesh. I managed to splint his leg using some of our arrows, and bandaged the leg as best I could, but the bleeding was bad."

"We stumbled along until he didn't have the strength to stand anymore, and then I hefted him on my back. It was getting dark by the time I finally accepted that we weren't going to make it across the canyon that day. I found a place to camp beside some rocks and got us settled. Liam was in pretty bad shape. The bleeding hadn't stopped, and he was in a lot of pain. To make things worse, his water bladder had burst when he fell, leaving us dangerously low on water."

"As soon as it was light enough to see the next morning, we were on our way. The canyon wall was just in sight when I heard them."

He stops and swallows hard, rubbing his hands over his face before continuing.

"Yippers. Biggest pack I have every seen; at least a hundred of them. I kept thinking that if I could just get to the wall and climb out of their reach, we would be safe. We made it to the base of the wall before they caught us. Liam had the bow and all the arrows, and was shooting as fast as he could while I tried to drag him up the slope. There was a tall rock formation nearby, and we managed to crawl to the top of it. We used all our arrows–and then switched to our whips–but we both knew it was only a matter of time before they reached us. There were too many, and the smell of blood had them in a frenzy. Liam was yelling at me to leave him and escape, but I wouldn't. I couldn't leave him.

"I was fighting off two of the Yippers who had managed to get to the top of the outcropping when I saw Liam dragging himself over to the edge of the rocks. He smiled, and asked me to tell Kate that he loved her, before he threw himself over the edge–and into the pack below."

"It was the bravest thing I have ever seen anyone do, and it distracted the pack long enough for me to make my escape up the rest of the canyon wall. When I finally made it back to our valley, the doctors wanted to stitch up the wounds on my face from the claw marks, but I wouldn't let them. My scars are a tribute to the man who saved my life, and a reminder of the sorrow I saw on Kate's face when I relayed Liam's last words to her."

Hunter stops talking then–lost in his thoughts, memories, and regrets–while I contemplate all he has told me. I have so many questions I want to ask. Questions about Kate and Hunter, about Jasper and his mission, about Bella and her disappearance from my life; but I'm hesitant to break the silence.

He stands up then, pushing his chair back and stretching. "I know you still have questions for me, but that's enough for today. I'll meet you here tomorrow after your morning run, we'll spend a couple more hours studying the map, and you can ask me about anything else you want to know. Then I want you to spend the afternoon with your parents. It's been awhile since you've seen them, and you need a break from all the training."

"There's one more thing I want to tell you before you leave," he adds, as I stand. "I'm planning on attending the social tomorrow night, and I'm going to invite Kate to my room afterward. She never blamed me for what happened to Liam, but I've always thought it was my fault. I knew better than to become distracted out there; we shouldn't have been talking and laughing. But Kate has convinced me that carrying this guilt for so long is ridiculous and unnecessary–and I need to forgive myself and move on. Life is too short and unpredictable to waste. We need to find happiness and enjoyment when we can."

"I think you should plan on going too, Edward. Spend some time with Emmett; he may be missing you more than you realize. Visit with your friends, dance with some pretty girls, drink a little of that honeyed wine, and just have some fun. You've worked very hard, and I'm proud of you and what you've accomplished in such a short time."

He looks like he wants to say something else, then shakes his head. "Good night, Edward. I'll see you in the morning." He pats my shoulder as he passes me on his way out of the room, leaving me feeling strangely pleased by his obvious praise.

AN: Many of you have asked about Bella and her whereabouts. She was supposed to make an appearance in this chapter, but Hunter got a little long-winded. She is waiting patiently in chapter 12, which is almost ready. Thank you, again, for your support. I love reading your reviews and theories!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

AN: This monster of a chapter would never have existed in this form, without the help of an amazing person. Thank you Bellebiter, for your encouragement, support, and your amazing editing skills.

The Protector

Chapter Twelve

EPOV

My run the next morning allows me to clear the jumble of thoughts in my head and focus on the most important things I want to know. I need to study the map in greater depth; I realize there were many details I missed yesterday. My main goal, however, is to finally get some answers about Jasper – his mission, his whereabouts, and his abilities.

We were never given any information about Jasper, or told of what happened to him; one day, he left for his mission – and then he simply never came back. There was no announcement, no official mourning… nothing. Emmett and I had both been sent back, to meet with our parents and Alice, for a brief remembrance service on the sixth month anniversary of his disappearance; the official service would not be until he had been missing for a year. At that time, his name would be chiseled into part of the stone wall of the city.

My parents had been stoic, as our society expected them to be. Alice was visibly upset, and Emmett and I stood silent and somber as our parents placed a stone with his name on it under a tree in their backyard. As a cadet, I wasn't in a position to ask questions or demand answers; but since becoming a Ranger, I've realized how little we are told – and how much information is kept from us.

When I enter the archives room later that morning, I am determined to finally get some answers from Hunter. My resolve must show on my face, because Hunter indicates the chair across the table from him and simply says, "Ask."

"Jasper," I start. "I want to know what the purpose of his mission was – where he was sent, and where he is now. I also want to know about his special abilities – because every Ranger I know of has something that is not quite normal about them."

When I'm finished speaking, I lean back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest– almost _daring_ him not to answer me.

"Relax, Edward," he laughs, shaking his head. "I told you I would answer your questions, and I will. So, first of all: the mission."

"About four years ago, the eighteeners doing their scouting sweeps started reporting brief flashes of light on the horizon of the Wastelands, close to where the green glow starts. It became pretty common for them to see the lights; I bet you probably saw some, too."

I nod my head, thinking about the flash I thought I saw on our last scouting trip.

"The officers finally decided we needed to know more about what was going on out there. Jasper had completed eighteen months of training, and was as prepared as I could make him for a trip outside the valley. He was instructed to use the route across the canyon and visit Korinth first, where he could check on their condition and resupply. Then he was to travel the length of the Ares Vallis to where it cuts through the cliff walls, and proceed through the Wastelands to the edge of the glow – which turns out to be a type of fog that glows in the sunlight."

"If he could get the information he needed there, he was to return home. If not, he had permission to cross the boundary – but to spend no more than six hours inside the fog – before heading back."

Hunter spreads the map over the table between us as he traces the trail from our valley to Korinth. Beginning at our wall, it runs south towards the cliffs; before reaching them, however, it turns left, and heads almost due east until it reaches the canyon. After descending, the route zig-zags, keeping close to the water sources, before climbing the opposite canyon wall to arrive outside the valley. Just before reaching the wall, a side trail turns off to the right and heads south down the canyon, towards the break in the cliffs.

His finger points to underground water sources that are located along this route, and he explains that part of Jasper's mission was to check these and make sure the cairns that mark them were still in place.

He also tells me that although climbing down the cliffs is doable, it is too time consuming and dangerous; and so the canyon is usually used to enter the Wastelands – because of its proximity to water sources, and its relative ease of traversing. As his finger continues to trace the trail through the break in the cliffs and out onto the flat land beyond it, he points out tall rock formations that can be climbed and used for safe camping, as well as a few scattered possible water sources.

Everything is labeled neatly and drawn in great detail. Underneath the word Wastelands, I notice 'Oceanos' in smaller print. When I ask Hunter what that means, he drags over one of the larger books of maps that I have yet to look at. Carefully, he turns the pages until he finds what he is looking for.

"This should help," he explains, laying the open book alongside the map we are studying. I realize I am looking at an exact copy of our map – except where the cliffs begin, there is now water instead of dry land. In fact, the landmass is surrounded by water… and most of the interior is covered in snow.

"It's called an island," he explains, indicating the whole of the land. "Completely surrounded by ocean, and covered in a sheet of snow and ice deep enough to reach all but the very tops of the mountains; it was located on the coldest part of our planet, and isolated from most of the other inhabited lands – which is why it survived the worst of the snow on Olympus is all that is left of the icepack."

Comparing the two maps leaves me speechless, and I shake my head in wonder at the changes between the two. When he thinks I've seen enough, Hunter closes the old book and turns back to the newer map.

"Back to Jasper. He was a quick learner, like you. An excellent marksman with the bow; he handled the whip like it was an extension of his arm. The thing that made him special, though, was his ability to sense emotions and feelings. He always knew when someone was angry or upset or lying, and he could say and do just the right thing to diffuse a situation before it escalated."

"Surprisingly, his ability also worked on animals. He once told me the Yippers had a fierce desire to survive, and that they felt an instinctive, almost tribal loyalty to their pack. We were training outside the wall one day, when we surprised a lone Yipper that had become separated from its pack. He said it was broadcasting intense feelings of fear; and, because he didn't want to kill it, he made it feel so exhausted that it fell asleep even as we watched. I've never known anyone able to do that before."

I can hear the fondness in his voice as he talks about my brother; it makes me wish I had been able to spend more time with Jasper before he left. As cadets, our days were so regimented that we rarely interacted with other age groups. Emmett and I did spend time with him at the socials after we became seventeeners, but we never spoke of anything personal, and he never discussed being a Ranger. I remember him being very popular with the women, and spending much of the evenings dancing with many of the ladies in attendance. Strangely, I don't remember him leaving with anyone in particular.

"Do you know where Jasper is now?" My question breaks the silence that has fallen over both of us.

"No, not really. We know he made it to Korinth, because I've been there since he left. I've seen some of the cairns he repaired along the trail, so I know he probably made it into the Wastelands."

"What do you think happened then?"

Sighing and absent-mindedly rubbing his fingers over his scars, he finally looks at me in defeat. "Ok," he begins. "I think he reached the area where the green fog starts; and, because he didn't find the answers he was looking for, I think he went in. The fog is toxic, almost pure poison. Even the air supporting it is so polluted that it will burn your skin and destroy your lungs. We have special goggles and breathing masks that will help, somewhat; but if you don't get out in time, it will kill you. I can only hope that the Thaay found him in time, and that he's still with them."

"So they are actually out there? The Thaay are real, and somewhere in the Wastelands beyond the green glow?"

"What did you think?" he asks, surprised.

"I don't know. All my life I've heard about the Thaay, and how terrible they were and are. But we've never seen them, and they've never done anything to us. We don't even know what they look like; and, to be honest, I've begun to doubt that they actually exist. Sometimes I think they are just a made-up story to justify the way our society is managed and organized."

I can tell my outburst has surprised him. In fact, I'm a little surprised by what I've just said myself; but I suddenly realize I have been having those thoughts and doubts a lot lately.

Hunter's voice drops to almost a whisper when he finally answers me. "You can say anything you want to me in private, Edward, but be careful everywhere else. Now is just not the time. To answer your question: yes, there are people living beyond the green fog; and while they may not be exactly like the Thaay we've been taught to fear all our lives, they _are_ different."

He turns back to the map, pointing out a few more things he thinks I should know – and effectively ending our discussion of the Thaay. When he asks me if I have any more questions, I can only think of one. I ask him if he knows where Bella is.

Once again, I can tell that I've surprised him with my question.

"Does this have anything to do with what I said about her the day your shield appeared?"

"Some," I nod.

"I owe you an apology for that day, and for the week leading up to it. I know what I said and did was harsh; but you had been suppressing your abilities for so long, and we were afraid we could never get you to release them. I hope you know I'm sorry for what I said."

Before I can answer, he stands, telling me he's hungry and reminding me to visit my parents – adding that he will see me that evening at the social. He's gone before I have a chance to ask for more information about Bella, and just whom he was referring to when he said, 'we' were afraid that I would not learn to use my abilities.

I enjoy the afternoon with my family. Apparently, they knew I was coming, and arranged for Alice to be excused from her duties so she could join us. My mother keeps my plate full; urging me to eat more, complaining that I am too thin. Even Father remarks on my changed appearance. I knew the running and constant training had altered my body, but I had not realized it was so noticeable. It feels good to have their attention and support.

Alice is her usual self, entertaining us with stories about her latest work assignment at the loom buildings. She has almost another month in her training rotation there before she moves on to her next assignment, which will be in the engineering department. I can tell she isn't looking forward to changing, so I describe to her how fascinated I was with the intricacies of our water system when Emmett and I did our rotation there. She seems more excited after we talk.

At thirteen, she is still living at home, spending a couple of hours in the classroom each day before heading to her current assignment. Each assignment lasts for approximately three months, before rotating to a new one. By the time she is fifteen, she will have trained in all the different occupations of our valley – except, of course, the weapons and strategy training, which is only for future Protectors. She will also never be sent outside the valley walls.

When Alice does turn fifteen, she can chose several areas she is most interested in to receive advanced training and mentoring. At seventeen, she will make her final selection, and work in that area until she marries. That is also the age at which she can chose to move into a small apartment in the city, if she wants, following her debut on Oath Night.

After lunch, Father and I take a walk through his bee hives, and he asks some general questions about my weapons training. He mentions that Emmett has recently visited, and that he'd asked about me. He also says that Emmett and Rose seem very happy. We don't discuss anything specific about my Ranger assignment, and I'm thankful to forget about everything for a short time. When I leave, Mother hugs me and tells me to visit again soon, before handing me a package of 'snacks' to eat on my way back to the barracks.

I'm in such a relaxed and happy mood that I decide I will attend the social that evening, even though I have not been to one since Oath Week; so I spend what's left of the afternoon resting and preparing.

A couple of hours later – showered, shaved, and in a clean uniform – I enter the social hall, only to find the party already started. I can tell several of my friends are surprised to see me, but no one says anything about my previous absences. Emmett soon finds me; and even though I can tell he is nervous about something, he is hiding it well. Rose joins us, and after we visit for awhile, he takes her out to the dance floor – muttering that we'll talk some more later.

I ask several women to dance with me; and, for the next few hours or so, I genuinely enjoy myself. I visit with friends, drink some honeyed wine, and manage to relax. Hunter is there with Kate. At one point, I pull her away from him to dance with her. We both laugh at his scowl, but it is obvious he is enjoying himself, and they are both very happy. When he finally pulls her away from me, I tell them how pleased I am for them, and wish them good luck. They leave hand-in-hand soon afterwards.

When the room is starting to empty, I catch Emmett looking at me from the refreshments table. I wander over, grabbing a plate and filling it with a variety of sweets, before joining him at a small corner table.

"Officer Emmett," I greet him, setting my plate down.

"Ranger Edward," he replies with a laugh. He glances casually around the room, and I know he is checking to make sure we cannot be overheard. I take a bite of my food, waiting for him to start the conversation.

"Something big is going on," he finally says. "I haven't been told anything, but I've heard rumors about the Thaay and Jasper and a traitor. I caught a couple of the officers whispering in the hall outside our rooms, but they stopped as soon as they noticed me. I thought maybe you might have been told something."

"Hunter told me a little about Jasper's mission. He believes he is with the Thaay; but I haven't heard anything about a traitor."

I hear Emmett grunt in reply, and we both eat a little more before he begins speaking again.

"I've spent most of my life wanting to be an officer. I planned to take my Oath, serve my community, marry Rose and have lots of kids; but nothing is what I thought it would be, Edward. There is something they are keeping from us, some secret that we aren't suppose to know." He rubs his hands over his face, and I can hear the frustration in his voice.

I consider all I've learned about our world and our history, but I'm not sure how much I should share with Emmett. I'm not sure how much the new officers are told. Before I can say anything, Rose sits down beside us. She sets Emmett's empty plate to one side, and then begins to rub his neck with one hand.

"Your head still hurting, hun?" she asks.

"Yeah… oh, that feels good, Rose. Don't stop."

She laughs, and reaches up with both hands to begin massaging his neck and shoulders. Emmett uses his fingers to rub his temples, and it is obvious he is in some pain.

"When did this start?" I ask, watching him closely.

"Six or eight weeks ago," he mumbles. "Feels like a vise squeezing my head; and sometimes there's a loud buzzing in my ears."

I know the exact feeling he is describing. It's what I felt at times when I was suppressing my abilities, before I started using my shield and my mental awareness regularly. When I consider that Jasper and I both have some type of talent, it should not be surprising that Emmett would, too. But Emmett has never shown any ability before, and has never really asked me about mine, either. I make the decision to talk to Hunter first, before I say anything to him.

Standing, I urge him to go to the infirmary and talk to Dr. Banner. He agrees, telling me he will soon.

"Make him go, Rose," I tell her, before turning away to leave.

"I will… Edward."

Something about the way she says my name makes me turn back around, and I find her staring at me with the strangest look on her face. I realize, suddenly, that she knows; she knows what is going on with Emmett. Before I can say anything, though, she takes his hand, laughing as she pulls him to his feet, telling him it's time for bed.

"Good night," she whispers, as they leave.

There is just enough light from our smaller moon, making its way quickly across the sky, to find the path through the darkened courtyard to the Ranger barracks. My thoughts are on Emmett, and what could be happening to him – when my shield suddenly snaps into place, without me consciously thinking about it. My senses on alert, I scan the darkness around me to see what could be causing this feeling of alarm. A dark figure detaches itself from an even darker, shadowed corner and approaches me.

It steps forward into the moonlight – and the breath I've been holding leaves me with a great whoosh, because it is Bella standing there facing me: a tentative smile on her lips, as she tilts her head to look up at me. I'm not even aware that I've crossed the space between us, before my arms are wrapped around her, and I've already enclosed both of us, safe within my shield.

We stand there, quiet, her arms around my waist, and her head against my chest, while I hold her up against me – draped around her shoulders, chin resting on the top of her head. I've held Bella before – my hand on her hip, her hand in mine – when we danced together at the socials last year. I was still a cadet, however, so we had to leave a 'respectable distance' between us. The intensity of being this close, of finally being able to feel all of her against me, is indescribable. She feels like happiness. She feels like home.

Bella pulls me closer to her, running her hands up and down my back. "I missed you," she whispers softly. "So very, very much."

"Oh, Bella, I've missed you, too. During all the training, the running, the studying… you've always been there in the back of my mind. So many things have happened, so many things I've learned, so many things I've wanted to share with you."

I lift my head slightly and place a soft, gentle kiss on her forehead. "Is this okay?"

"Yes," she sighs.

"And is this okay?" I question, leaving another soft kiss on the top of her head.

"Oh, yes."

"Good," I whisper, as I leave more soft kisses on her hair. She's left it down, and it falls in soft curls down her back. It's beautiful in the moonlight; soft and shiny when I run my fingers through it. "Because I've always wanted to do that."

"And now you can. There are no disapproving Matrons to stop us," she giggles. I can feel her breath, warm on my chest.

"Well then, in that case, I can do this, too," I tease, running my hands along her back from her shoulders to her hips. "And maybe I can do this, as well," I repeat, as I kiss my way along her neck to a spot behind her ear. That makes her shiver against me. Her skin is warm and soft, and smells faintly of herbs in the soap we use.

"And finally, finally, maybe I can do this?" My hands move from her hips to the sides of her face, tilting her head, so that our eyes meet… mine seeking permission, hers warm and accepting… before I lean down and place my lips against hers.

Her lips are soft and full, our first kiss everything that I hoped it would be. Hesitant at first, then hungry and desperate, I move my hands from her face to grasp her hips and pull her tight against me. Her hands are on the back of my neck, pulling my face closer to her, as she stands on tip-toe to reach me. My desire for her is obvious; I can tell she feels the same way when she begins to slowly rub against me.

She pulls away first, taking a step back as we both breathe heavily. Then her arms are around me again, hugging me closer to her. "Oh, Edward, Edward," she sighs into my chest.

I have so many questions I want to ask her. Why didn't she come to the socials? Where she has been? Why didn't she send a note, or a least try to get in touch with me? But I don't want to spoil this moment we are sharing; she feels so good against me, and I don't want it to end.

I remember Hunter's words from yesterday: about life being too short and unpredictable to waste; about finding happiness and enjoyment when we can. Perhaps, _this_ is what he was trying to tell me. Perhaps, I need to stop worrying about the past and the future, and just accept the present I have now.

"Come to my room, spend the night with me." I kiss my way along the side of her face, ending with another kiss on her mouth. This one is softer, sweeter, full of the longing I have for her. "Please, Bella. You've always known how much I've wanted this, wanted you – and I know you do, too."

I take her hands in mine, and begin leading her towards the barracks' door; but she pulls back, shaking her head and taking a step away from me. "Bella… ?"

She is saying something, but I don't hear her words, because I've just realized that something about Bella's hands feels very wrong. They are no longer as smooth and soft as I remember them from our dances last year. Gripping them tighter, I pull her further into the middle of the courtyard. The moon is almost overhead now, its light bright enough to see the thick, rough calluses on the palms and tips of her fingers, and the small nicks and cuts that I'd felt along the sides. When I flip her arm over to look closer, I notice a discolored area of raw skin on the inside of her left forearm. It looks like it has been scraped, and a purple bruise surrounds the inflamed area.

"Who did this to you?" I demand. "Is someone hurting you? Tell me what is going on, Bella. Where have you been?" My hands tighten on her wrists, and I'm frustrated and angry. I know she can hear it in my voice.

"Edward, stop." She winces in pain when she tries to pull her hands away.

I drop them quickly, muttering "Sorry, sorry."

"The arm was just an accident at work. One of the belts that controls the shuttles on a loom broke, and the end caught me before I could get out of the way. The calluses are from threading the looms, over and over. No one is hurting me. Nothing is going on. Everything is fine."

Her reason makes sense, but I'm still not convinced. I nod my head, though, letting her know I accept her explanation. She's still backing away from me when I try to approach her again.

"Bella… ?"

"I'm sorry, Edward. I'm so, so sorry. I can't stay. I… I know I shouldn't have come, but I had to see you. No matter what you must think, I have missed you. Please believe me."

Her voice hitches, and she sounds so very sad. Moonlight washes over her again, and I can see tears on her cheeks.

Bella steps forward once more, wrapping her arms around me and resting her head on my chest. "You are so special to so many, many people. Always taking care of someone else, always protecting those you love; even when we were children, playing on the fort in your backyard. You told me then you would always protect me, and I knew you would. Whatever happens, whatever you hear, I want you to know… I _need_ you to know… that I care deeply for you. I always have, and I always will."

She pulls away then, and before I can move or reply, she is gone. Blending into the shadows, so quickly and quietly, that the only proof of her presence is a soft, faintly lingering "Goodbye, Edward."

And at that, the courtyard is quiet once more – just the stars, and the quickly disappearing moon to keep me company. When I can stand there no longer, I slowly make my way back to my room. Later, when I'm lying in bed – my mind whirling from all I've learned today – it occurs to me that Bella's chosen assignment wasn't in the loom buildings; it was in the orchards. She told me once that she loved being outdoors. That planting, caring for and harvesting the trees had made her happy.

If what she told me about the accident is true, then what is she doing in the loom buildings? If her explanation is a lie, then what happened to cause the injury to her arm and the calluses on her hands?

Rubbing my hands over my face, I cover a yawn, realizing that I'm too tired to think rationally. My last thought, as I fall asleep, is that Bella's hands and fingers have the same rough calluses as mine.

AN: Thank you, readers, for your wonderful comments. If you are coming to San Diego for TFMU, I hope to meet you there.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

AN: Once again, many thanks to Bellebiter, who used her magic red pen (in this case a keyboard) to bring order to my chaos.

The Protector

Chapter 13

EPOV

I wake late the next morning. For the first time in a long, long, time, my sleep was troubled with strange, twisted dreams: of Bella, Jasper, Emmett… and of mysterious, shadowy figures who chase me down forest paths, and grip my arms tightly when I try to escape. Twice, I bolt from the bed – drenched in sweat, and shaking from some unknown terror.

I know a good meal and a long run would probably clear my head and make me feel better, but I settle for a cold shower and some of the snacks my mother gave me the day before. Staying in my room gives me a chance to think quietly about Emmett's comments concerning Jasper, as well as to consider the possible consequences of a suspected traitor.

Is it possible that the officers know where Jasper is, and think he is a traitor because he hasn't returned? Hunter had said he hoped Jasper was with the Thaay, rather than dead inside the poison fog. If that is the case, are they holding him hostage for some reason?

I remember Hunter's advice to be cautious about speaking my ideas out loud. Could I have been overheard, and reported for traitorous thoughts? Or has someone seen me use my shield, and suspects that I might be a Thaay?

I search my mind for any other conversations or actions that might have sounded or looked suspicious. Although I've seen and talked to most of my friends from my former cohort, I can't recall anything that would tie them to Jasper – or to anything even remotely traitorous. The only other possible connection would be my family.

"Oh, fuck!" I can't help but curse loudly, when I remember my conversations with Alice about Jasper, the Thaay, and being a Ranger. Surely, no one would suspect a thirteen-year-old girl's remarks – made while she was upset about her brothers – to openly point to actual treason?

Thinking about Alice reminds me that she is currently doing a training rotation in the loom buildings, and of Bella claiming that was where she was injured. I know that Bella chose the orchards as her assignment. If she is at the building, does that have something to do with Alice? Could one or both of them be in some kind of danger?

Considering all the possibilities has my head in a spin, and I decide I really do need to get out of my room. I finish dressing and make my way out to the top of the city walls, hoping a walk in the fresh air and sunshine will help relieve my worries and the nagging headache they are causing.

My valley looks the same as usual: fields, orchards, and grazing animals; Olympus towers behind me with its white snowpack. There are people below me – on the road, in the fields, and in their homes – going about their everyday activities: a small boy plays with a ball in his backyard, a woman hangs clean laundry out to dry, a man digs in a flower bed beside his house. Breathing deeply, I let the peacefulness of my home wash over me.

The feeling doesn't last, however, as I sense Hunter approaching me while I stare out over the walls. He comes to stand beside me, quietly surveying the scene before us. I know what he has to tell me is not going to be good, so I put off breaking the silence for as long as I can. Finally, I turn to him and ask. "What?"

He watches my face intently while he informs me that an Officers' Tribunal has been convened to consider charges of treason, and that all active Protectors and cadets are to report to the city amphitheater immediately. He shakes his head 'No' when I ask if he can tell me who has been accused. Prisoners who are charged with crimes are brought to the tribunals in a hood and robe, which covers their head and body from view; this is done to guarantee objectivity from the jury who will be sentencing them. In cases of treason, the jury is always the group of current Oath Takers: Emmett, me, and the rest of our former cohort. Resigned and fearing the worst, I follow him.

The amphitheater is quiet when we arrive. The cadets and their current trainers are seated by their age groups, beneath their flags, on the smaller, left side of the seating area. The trainers must have spoken to them about the seriousness of what they are about to witness, because the younger ones look nervous and scared.

The active Protectors are seated in their division groups. Hunter leaves me to sit under the Ranger flag, and I join Emmett and my fellow Oath Takers on the front row of seats. A group of senior officers is seated on one side of the stage; the head Matron sits opposite them on the other side, the heavily embroidered stole of her office draped over her shoulders. Normally, her presence is a formality only; but she can ask questions, or call for a point of order to ensure impartiality for the accused.

It's been nearly three months since I sat in this same place for my Oath Taking. So many things have happened in that short amount of time; it almost feels like another lifetime ago. Now, here I am again – about to pass judgement on someone for possible treason; someone who may have a connection to Jasper, or to others in my family. A sense of overwhelming dread settles in my stomach.

Two officers lead the prisoner out to the middle of the stage in front of us. A separate hood covers the head completely, and a large robe drapes over their entire body, even enveloping both feet and hands. There is nothing to indicate who the prisoner is, except the shorter size of their silhouette. There are no ropes or chains, because escape is impossible.

Stepping forward to face us, the presiding officer begins the proceedings. "Prisoner number 523.43 stands accused of the following crimes," he intones.

"First, plotting treason against the people of this valley and its governing council."

"Second, aiding and abetting the Thaay, enemies of the people, thereby endangering the lives of the citizens of this valley."

"And third, causing – either directly, or indirectly – the disappearance and presumed death of the Ranger Jasper, Protector of this valley."

The audience has remained fairly quiet during each of the first two charges, with only some muttered curses and shifting around; but as soon as Jasper's name is mentioned, there are suddenly loud shouts, and an increasingly forceful swell of calls for punishment. I can feel the anger building in Emmett, and he is actually shaking – his face filled with hatred, his eyes narrowed and burning, his lips twisted in disgust.

The prisoner has remained completely still during the accusations, head bowed, doing nothing to indicate he has heard the charges brought against him.

When the noise dies down and it is quiet again, the officer begins the second part of the proceedings by asking the prisoner if he has anything to say to defend himself, or if there is anyone to speak in his defense. The prisoner slowly shakes his head; but before the officer can speak again, the Matron has called for a point of order.

"The prisoner must answer verbally, and loud enough for all in attendance to hear," she states.

Nodding, the officer turns to the prisoner and asks again if he has anything to say, or anyone to speak in his defense. This time, the answer is a clear, "No."

Throughout everything that has happened so far, I've tried to remain calm and detached; but when I hear that voice, my composure immediately begins to disintegrate. Although I'm not sure anyone else has or will recognize it, I know whose voice it is – and the ramifications of what is about to happen hit me like a physical blow to my body.

One by one, the presiding officer repeats the charges and asks the prisoner if they are guilty or not guilty; and, one by one, the prisoner answers guilty. Each answer hurts like the sharp lash of a trainer's whip against my back; the same ones I know will leave her back a bloody mess tomorrow, if she is found guilty. I want to yell at her to stop, to be quiet. I want to rewind time to last night, and force her to escape with me to the Wastelands – or to Korinth – or to anywhere that I can keep her safe. I can do none of those things.

As soon as she admits guilt in the disappearance or possible death of Jasper, Emmett is out of his seat and screaming, "Blood Right! Blood Right!"

I knew this would happen. I knew that he would do this. As relatives of Jasper, we have the right to claim the first blood of punishment from the guilty party. Because Emmett is an officer, he has his own discipline whip. He has already ripped it out of its shoulder harness as he strides angrily towards the stage – where the officers have turned the prisoner around so her back is facing us, and where they are now holding each arm straight out away from her body.

I'm up and out of my seat, too, when I watch … almost in slow motion… as Emmett swings the whip towards her back. The muscles in his arm bulge with the force of his swing, and I know that when it strikes, it will cut through the fabric of the robe, drawing blood along the length of the lash.

Every part of me – bone, muscle, blood, thought, every fiber of my very being – is screaming to protect this woman. It doesn't matter what she has confessed to; it doesn't matter what she has done: with everything that I am, I will protect Bella. So I follow Emmett to the stage, screaming "No!" as his whip snakes through the air towards her back – and I push my shield out so violently that it explodes out and away from me, encasing the whole of the valley in a visible dome.

Time stops. Everything stops. For a moment, I am overwhelmed… staring at the glittering dome above me. It looks almost hard, as if it could be touched; it glistens and sparkles in the sunlight. I can't stop to think about it, however, as I can already feel the energy drain it creates.

Walking around the frozen officers, I pull the hood from Bella's head, anxious to see her face. I'm surprised to see her eyes widen when she looks above me at the shining shield. But I'm even more shocked when she whispers, "Oh, Edward, what have you done?"

"You can talk?" I know I sound ridiculous when I ask – but besides Hunter's eyes, no one has ever been able to even move while inside my shield – and now, Bella is talking.

"Yes… ?"

"Doesn't matter. Come on. We have to get you out of here." I turn towards the closest officer, and begin to remove his hand from her arm, when she stops me.

"No, Edward. Don't."

"What? You can't stay here, Bella. You've just admitted to treason. Do you have _any_ idea what they are going to do to you? Do you?"

When she doesn't answer, I continue, hoping to convince her to leave.

"Listen to me. After they pronounce you guilty of treason, you'll be locked up in a room for the rest of the day and night. Tomorrow, you'll be taken to the city center, stripped to the waist; then – with everyone in the valley watching – they will whip you until your back is bruised and bloody; and don't expect them to take it easy on you just because you're a woman. You'll be given a single bag of water and escorted to the valley wall – where you'll be exiled from your home forever."

I reach out and cup her cheek, turning her face towards me and staring intently into her eyes; willing her to see the danger she is in, willing her to agree to leave with me.

"Is this what you want? Is it?" By the time I finish talking, I'm shaking with tension and anger. "You can't stay here, Bella. You have to leave. Please!"

"How are you going to explain my absence?" she asks. "When you take that down," tilting her head towards the shield, "and everything goes back to normal, do you think they are just going to forget I was here? You can't do that! It will just cast suspicion on you. It may have already."

At her words, I let my gaze sweep over the immobile Protectors and cadets. Hunter's eyes are watching me, just as I would have suspected; but I'm surprised to see several cadets, including Riley, whose eyes show me they are aware of what is happening. All of the officers on the stage seem oblivious, but the Head Matron is watching me intently. It is Emmett who captures my attention, however: he is clearly shaking, as though trying to fight off the paralysis that grips him.

"You have to let it go, Edward. You don't have much time."

Bella's words bring my attention back to her. "I can't. _Please_ don't ask this of me. We can think of something. There are other cities out there; we can leave and go there. I know the way." I'm practically pleading with her now, begging her. "I can protect you. We'll be safe. I… "

"No!" Her voice is hard when she interrupts me. "I will not have you branded as a traitor. Put the officer's hand back on my wrist, cover my head, and pull back your shield. Now!"

"And Emmett's whip?" I shout. "Am I supposed to let that hit you, too? Dear Ares, how can you expect me to watch this, Bella?"

"Have you thought what this will do to Emmett when he finds out who he has just beaten with his whip? It will sicken him just to think he has struck a woman; but he knows and cares about you. This will be so much worse. Did you think about that?"

"Emmett just heard me admit to treason and grave harm against his brother. He'll feel justified in his actions."

"Treason," I scoff. "Don't be ridiculous. You're no more of a traitor than I am. I've heard enough of this… "

"Edward, stop pacing and look at me."

Reluctantly, I turn and face her. "I _am_ a traitor, Edward. I've been in the Wastelands, helping the Thaay."

Her words seem to hang in the air between us as I stare at her. "No… "

"Yes," she answers sadly. Sorrow fills her eyes as she looks at me. "I wasn't suppose to be here last night, but I missed you so much, I couldn't stay away. They caught me as I tried to leave the valley. I'm sorry, Edward, but you have to do this, you have to let it go. Put things back the way they were, and bring down your shield."

She's right. I know she is, but I have one thing left to say, one thing left to do. Stepping forward, I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close to me. "Last night, you told me you cared deeply for me. Well, the feeling is the same for me too, Bella. Know this, my love: it doesn't matter what you've done. Someday, when this is all over, I will find you. I'll find you, and we'll build a life together and be happy."

I kiss her, then; tender and sweet and filled with promises. When I step back, she is smiling through her tears. She nods, and – after one last look – I replace the hood over her head, and check to make sure the officer's hand is still on her arm. I slowly move into place behind Emmett, but just before I pull in my shield, I push the tip of his whip to one side.

Everything begins with a rush as soon as I drop the shield. Emmett's whip finishes its forward path towards Bella's back; but because I've changed the trajectory, it strikes her with much less force. It's still hard enough to make her jerk and cry out. Before he can bring his arm back for another stroke, I push him to the side, yelling, "No!"

He rounds on me in fury, shouting, fists raised in anger. "What the fuck was that for? Why did you stop me?"

"Because one is enough, no more," I shout back.

"You're crazy if you think I'm stopping at one," he yells. "That traitorous scum is responsible for Jasper's disappearance. You just heard him. You heard him confess to treason. I'm entitled to five stokes, and so help me, Ares, I'm getting my five hits in – and then you're going to do the same. So get the fuck out of my way, Edward!"

I've never seen Emmett so angry. Mad, yes; upset, yes; but never like this. His face is a mask of twisted rage, and he is visibly shaking. For just a moment, I am actually afraid he might hit me with his clenched fists as he moves towards me.

"Stop, Emmett. You can't. The prisoner isn't a man, it's a woman. You can't do this; you'll hate yourself if you do."

"What … ?" He stares at me questioningly. I spin around, and pull the hood off Bella's head before turning her to face him.

He visibly pales as he realizes who is facing him. "Bella… ? What are you… ? Oh shit, I hit you. I can't…" Emmett stumbles away, shaking his head as he takes his seat, the remorse on his face plain to see.

Reluctantly, I hand Bella back to the officers who were holding her. She gives me a small nod and a slight smile, letting me know she understands how hard this is for me. Clenching my jaw to keep from saying anything that would ruin this charade we are playing, I step away, announcing that the Blood Right has been satisfied, before I, too, return to my seat.

The rest of the proceedings are handled quickly. The presiding officer informs the current Oath Takers that they are responsible for considering the evidence and passing judgement on the accused. Since Bella has admitted her guilt and she has brought no evidence or witnesses to the contrary, there is only one conclusion that can be made. It is merely a formality, but each Oath Taker is asked to verbally state their decision. I listen as, one by one, they stand and pronounce the only woman I have ever wanted is guilty of treason.

When it is my turn, I can hardly move. I think about her determination to continue the trial, refusing my help so that no one would suspect me. I think about how strong she must be – a lone woman standing in front of so many men – as they judge her guilty of the most heinous crime our society can imagine. And, finally, I think about the promise I made to her: that I will find her, and that we will be happy. If she can find the resolve to see this through to the finish, then so can I.

I stand – and pronounce her guilty.

It is a relief that she never looks at us as we speak. I know this is a deliberate choice she is making, to ease the pain that she knows Emmett and I must be feeling, and to make it easier for us to do what is required of us. Even with my conviction to maintain this facade of impartiality, I'm not sure I could have watched her face as I spoke those words. Sitting next to Emmett, I can feel how difficult it is for him, too. He is slow to rise, slow to say the words. I'm sure that seeing her face would have only added to his remorse.

Instead of looking at us, she keeps her gaze off and up to the side, where I know her brother, Riley, is seated. I wonder how much distress and confusion he must be feeling to hear his sister admit to treason?

She is sentenced to twenty-five strokes with a discipline whip, to be administered mid-afternoon the following day – after which she will be escorted to the valley entrance, and then exiled forever; she will never be allowed to enter our settlement again. The officers lead her away, and we are dismissed to return to our duties.

Everyone is subdued as they leave the amphitheater. Accusing and sentencing someone of treason happens so seldom that it is a reverberating shock to the very everyday foundation of our society. That it was a young woman, who freely admitted her guilt, is even more upsetting, and almost incomprehensible.

Emmett and I hang back to give the others time to leave. I know he wants to talk about this afternoon. "You know I would _never_ have struck her, had I known it was Bella."

"I know, Em, It's okay. There was no way for you to know it was her. She was completely covered, and you heard her admit her guilt."

"How did you know it was her?"

"Her voice. I recognized it as soon as she spoke."

Emmett and I are the only ones left in the amphitheater now. He nods slowly, then glances around, finally sitting heavily on one of the seats – elbows on his knees, hands holding his head as he slowly rubs his temples. "Do you think she did it, the treason?"

"I don't know. She claims she did, but _everything_ feels off. None of it makes any sense." I sigh, sitting down beside Emmett. We both stare at the ground, lost in our thoughts.

"You did something out there today," he finally says, nodding towards the stage area where Bella had stood."I'm not sure what it was… but one minute I was walking towards her, aiming my whip at her back – you were still several feet behind me – and then things seemed to pause, to stop… almost like a long blink. The next thing I knew, the whip was hitting her in a completely different place than I had aimed for – and you were beside me, pushing me away."

I don't answer him immediately, not sure how much I can – or should – tell him.

"Edward… ?"

"Things have changed a lot since I became a Ranger, Emmett. I can do more _things_ , you know, than I could before."

"Then why didn't you stop all this?" he asks angrily, sweeping his arm out to indicate the stage in front of us. "Why didn't you make her leave, or plead not guilty, or something? Anything, Edward? Why didn't you do _anything_?"

"I tried. Believe me; of _course_ I tried. But she wouldn't let me. She absolutely refused my help, said she didn't want people to think I might be a traitor, too. She confessed, Emmett. Told me it was true, that she _had_ been in the Wastelands, helping the Thaay."

"You talked to her?"

"Yes."

"While we were all 'paused' – or whatever it was that you did?"

"Yes."

"Damn," he chuckles."That must be some crazy _thing_ you can do."

"Yeah, it was pretty scary at first."

"I don't want to know, do I?"

"No, probably not."

"Okay," he nods, before he continues. "Can you do something about tomorrow, though? Can you stop it? If she's a traitor, then she needs to be exiled and sent out; but the whipping… " Emmett is standing now, pacing in front of me, waving his arms as he continues. "You know, when I thought it was an unknown man – a Protector, or a cadet, who had done something to Jasper – I was so angry that I wanted to hurt them. I wanted to make them suffer, as they had made us suffer. I wanted my Blood Right."

Emmett stops short to face me directly.

"But it's different when you know the person, isn't it? When you've laughed and spoken and eaten dinner together. When you've watched your brother search for them in every crowd. Now it seems wrong … horrible… excessive. Why was it okay when I didn't know them – but not okay when I do know them? The thought of what is going to happen tomorrow is making me sick! Everyone will have to watch, Edward: her relatives; her brother Riley; _you._ How can you even consider being there? Dear Ares, twin, what are you going to do?"

Even in the middle of the internal storm I feel swelling in my chest and in my head, I look down and smile briefly at my brother's use of the word twin. It's a term we rarely use, so I know he is stressed and worried for me. "I don't know, twin," I reply. "I still have a little time to think of something. But Emmett: you must know that if I do anything to stop this – if I can find some way to get her out of the valley – I'll be branded a traitor, too. Can you live with that?"

When I finally look up at him, I find my brother's serious face staring back at me.

"I'm not sure I know what a traitor is anymore, Edward. To tell you the truth, I confused about a lot of things," he answers, shaking his head. "All our lives we heard about the evil Thaay. We've been taught to hate them, to fear them; yet we've never even seen them, and they've never attacked us or hurts us. Maybe they are just other people trying to survive like we are. Who knows?"

He looks away, quiet for a moment, before drawing a deep breath and turning back to me.

"But I do know this," he continues. "Whipping Bella is wrong; not because she's a woman, but because that kind of violence is just wrong. If she were helping the Thaay, then maybe she had a good reason. And I don't believe for one minute that Jasper is dead, or that she had anything to do with his disappearance. So, to answer your question: do what you have to do to stop this. You have my support. You'll always have my support, brother."

Emmett turns then, and begins to walk away. "Where are you going now?" I ask his retreating back.

"I'm going to try to find a way to sneak into Rose's room," he calls back over his shoulder. "I need a little happy time."

"Not allowed; against the rules."

"I know," he laughs. "Don't care."

Later, alone in my room, I contemplate everything that happened and everything that was said today. My mind devises plan after plan to rescue her, to leave the valley, to find someplace safe we can live. Each plan has some flaw, though; some reason to discard it. I realize I need to get some supplies: dried food to feed us both for several days; another water container of some kind; warmer clothes for Bella – including a cloak, if I can find one.

As I consider everything that needs to be done, I pace the length of my small room; over and over, back and forth. The physical activity calms my nerves and satisfies my need to do something, anything. The planning keeps my mind occupied, and my imagination away from what is – or could be – happening to Bella at the moment.

I know the timing will also be crucial. Unless I can find the key to unlock her cell, I'll have to wait until they move her from her cell to the city center for punishment, mid-afternoon tomorrow. Then, I'll erect my shield, grab her, and get to the valley wall as quickly as possible. After we exit the valley, we can travel to Korinth and ask for asylum – or take our chances in the Wastelands with the Thaay.

As simple as it sounds, I know it won't be that easy. My shield makes everything possible; but it also means I'll have to cover a larger portion of the valley, including the wall – and leave it up for a longer period of time than I ever have before. If anyone is sent after us, I'll have to use it to delay them, or protect us if we are caught.

With my plan decided and my mind made up, I turn to leave my room to gather whatever supplies I can find – only to be faced with a very determined Hunter blocking my way when I open my door.

"Get back inside," he demands, pushing me out of his way as he enters my room and closes the door. "I know what you're thinking, and I know what you're planning. But you can just forget about leaving this room any time soon."

"Hunter, so help me, if you don't get out of my way right now… "

"Quit being stupid, boy," he growls out, interrupting me."Start thinking with your head, and use a little common sense. They know about your attachment to Bella, and they're watching you. The first move you make towards gathering supplies, or acting like you might be leaving, will get you arrested and locked up – and then we'll have an even bigger mess on our hands."

"What… ?"

"Don't ask, and don't leave this room until I come and get you!" Slamming the door, he leaves me sitting on my bed, wondering what I should do now. With nothing to do but wait, I get my gear and weapons out and begin cleaning and inspecting everything I will need when I leave the valley tomorrow with Bella.

I don't know what Hunter is doing, but I'm not changing my plans to rescue her.

AN: Thank you, dear readers, for your continued support. Your reviews warm my heart!


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

AN: Many thanks to the wonderful Bellebiter, who manages to hold my hand and kick my ass, while she works editing magic.

The Protector

Chapter 14

EPOV

Hunter never came back to my room. I waited all afternoon, alternating between pacing the floor and lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Over and over, I carefully examined every detail of my plan to save Bella. My gear was cleaned, oiled, and ready for use. I had found a few packets of dried food left over from my daily runs, and stored them in the pockets of my over-shirt. It wasn't enough to last more than a couple of days at most, but I hoped we could resupply when we reached Korinth.

I packed one of my older, smaller uniforms for Bella. The shirt and pants would be too big, but they would easily fit over whatever clothing they dressed her in. She could use my knitted thermals, too, if the need for more warmth arose.

The water bladder in my over-shirt would have to be enough to get us to the first water source in the canyon. There was nothing else to carry water in, unless I could snatch a canteen when we went through the barracks at the wall.

I am a nervous mess of indecision when it comes time for the evening meal to be served. I have no idea what would raise the most suspicion: missing the meal, or trying to act nonchalant while I eat. Kate spares me the worry of making a decision by knocking on my door. When I open it, she is standing there with a folded stack of towels.

"Hunter told me you were needing some fresh towels and linens, Edward. I apologize for the oversight. You should have let me know." She shakes her head slightly when I start to respond. "No, no, it's no problem. Here – you should take these, and put them away quickly," she adds. Handing me the stack, she lets her eyes communicate what she cannot say out loud.

As soon as I touch them, I know there is something hidden inside the folds; they are much too heavy to be just towels. Since she'd told me to put them away quickly, I open my lower drawer and carefully place them inside next to my other clean linens.

"Thank you, Matron Kate," I answer her with a slight nod. "Will Hunter be joining me for dinner?"

"No, he has been delayed; but he asked me to let you know that you should go to your meals without him – and that you should carry on with your normal training."

Her slight emphasis on the word _meals_ tells me that I will probably not see him until after breakfast, at the earliest. His other message is also clear: that I should act and behave as I normally would. I'm careful to look straight at Kate when I tell her thank you again, and to let Hunter know that I appreciate his message. Nodding her head, she leaves the room – and I slowly but deliberately make my way to the mess hall to eat.

Nothing out of the ordinary happens during the evening meal. Instead of sitting in my regular place, I take my tray to the medical division's table where Dr. Banner is eating. He seems happy to welcome me; and since I haven't seen him in some time, we spend our meal in conversation about some new medical treatments he is trying. Neither of us mentions it, but I know he is here in the city – instead of the infirmary, at the wall – because of Bella, and her disciplinary action tomorrow afternoon. It is always standard procedure to have the senior medical staff in attendance when corporal punishment of such severity is being administered, just in case something should go wrong.

I manage to act reasonably normal, I think; but when the hall begins to clear, I quickly excuse myself to return to my room. All during dinner, I've tried not to think about what Kate could have given me in that stack of towels. It was almost impossible not to wonder what was waiting for me; several times already, I've had to make a conscious effort to pay attention to the conversation around me. As soon as I'm back in my room, I lock my door, then pull them out of my drawer – carefully opening them to find enough dried food packets to last two people for a least a week. Wrapped around them is another water bladder and a smaller, hooded cloak with an attached dust mask. There is also a note from Hunter, written on a small scrap of old paper.

I sit on my bed, unfold it and begin to read. He tells me to continue as if everything is normal, and to NOT do anything that might look suspicious. If I haven't seen or heard from him before time to go to her punishment, then I am to go ahead and do whatever it is I am planning. He wishes me luck, and ends by saying he expects to see me soon.

The food, water bladder and extra cloak are quickly packed in my over-shirt, and the note is torn into small pieces and flushed in the toilet. With nowhere else to go – and nothing left to do but worry – I decide to clean up and prepare for bed. I'm exhausted from the previous night's lack of sleep and from the turmoil of the day's events, but my mind won't let go of the image of Bella telling me she was caught because she had slipped into the valley to see me. If she had stayed away, none of this would have happened; I quietly recognize that our need for each other has led to her capture. My guilt keeps me tossing and turning into the night, until fatigue claims me and, eventually, I sleep.

Breakfast the next morning is a repeat of the previous evening meal. This time, though, I manage to sit with Emmett at the officers' table. Conversation is hushed; and, from time to time, I feel like I am being watched. The table quiets immediately when one of the junior officers asks Emmett a question about his reaction to yesterday's trial, and his remorse at finding he had struck a woman.

Emmett is cool and composed when he replies that although he might not agree with the extent of the physical punishment, he – and his brother – have no problem with exiling a confessed traitor. His answer seems to satisfy most of the table, and I see a few nods of agreement. The rest of the meal continues as normal.

I spend the rest of the morning alone in the archives, pouring over the maps and trying to commit as much of them to memory as I can. I review my plan, step by step: deciding where would be the best place to intercept Bella and the officers leading her; planning how to shape my shield to cover the city and the road to the valley exit; estimating how far away I would have to be before I can pull it back. Hunter never shows up, and I am increasingly nervous and worried as the mid-day meal approaches.

When it is time, I enter the mess hall to find Hunter sitting at our regular table. I join him, almost collapsing in relief when I sit down. He greets me, and asks me how my studying went this morning; and I answer, trying to keep the conversation as normal as possible. His voice is pitched just slightly louder than usual, and I understand it is to let those around us hear what we are saying. Our meals are served and I try to eat, but end up moving most of the food around on my plate. A slight nudge against my foot causes me to look across the table at Hunter. "Eat it," he mouths. "All of it." Nodding, I take another bite – but have to wash it down quickly with water, before it can come back up.

There is a commotion at one of the doors, and I turn around to see the Commanding Officer and two of his junior officers approaching our table. All conversation in the mess hall has stopped; even the kitchen noises are silent. Hunter and I stand and salute as they come to a stop in front of us.

"Ranger Edward," he addresses me formally.

"Yes, Sir."

"You have been assigned a mission outside the valley walls, to commence immediately. Do you accept this assignment?"

What he asks is a formality only; he and I – as well as everyone else – know this. But it is our custom, and so I answer him formally.

"Yes, Sir. I accept this mission. Sir."

"Thank you, Ranger Edward, for your service. Your mission is to track and retrieve prisoner 523.43 – who escaped from her confinement sometime during the previous night, and is believed to be headed to the Wastelands. It has also been verified that during this escape, she kidnapped a young woman from this valley: in fact, your sister, Alice. You are to return the prisoner for punishment of her confessed treason, and for the kidnapping of Alice. Ranger Hunter will fill you in on the details, and help you prepare for your journey. May you have a successful mission, and may Ares grant you a safe return."

He nods, turns, and walks away, his two aides trailing behind him – leaving me gaping after him, trying to absorb the fact that Bella has taken Alice with her to the Wastelands.

Hunter grabs my arm, dragging me out a side door as I stutter and mumble about everything I have just heard. "Keep it together, Edward," he warns. "At least until we can get you to your room."

We are halfway through the courtyard when we hear Emmett running behind us. He's yelling and cursing, screaming about Alice. He follows us through the barracks' door –but once we're inside the hallway, Hunter turns on him, furiously spitting at him to shut up and listen.

"I swear by the snowpack on Olympus – the two of you, your brother, and now Bella and your sister – are driving me to the edge of insanity. I'm just about ready to take Kate and escape to another valley myself, if only to get away from your family."

The three of us are standing in the hallway outside my room. I watch Emmett as he glares at Hunter, hands clenched, the anger clearly evident on his face. Hunter looks exasperated, but above all… tired, and I wonder what he has been doing since the last time I saw him before dinner yesterday.

"Emmett, your sister will be okay," he sighs. "That's all I'm telling you. But I need you to be worried; I need you to be mad at that traitorous scumbag – as you so eloquently put it yesterday – for kidnapping Alice. And right now, I need you to leave – and go back to your duties _immediately_ – so I can get Edward prepared and on his way."

"I… "

"No, Emmett," Hunter interrupts him. "Get out!"

"Ranger Hunter," Emmett angrily faces him, throwing his shoulders back and standing straighter. "You may be my superior in years, _Sir_ , but I am an officer of this valley, and I will leave when I am damn well ready to leave – and that is going to be _after_ I speak with my brother."

"Edward," he starts. "I don't have any fucking clue what is going on here. Yesterday, I would have sworn that Bella was no traitor – even after she admitted she was; but now, I'm so confused that I don't know _what_ to think anymore. I can't believe she would expose a thirteen-year-old girl to the dangers of the Wastelands."

Emmett starts towards the door, before stopping and striding back towards me. He stops directly in front of me, staring at me intensely.

"You go out there, brother," he demands. "You go out there, and you bring our sister back; and if you can find Jasper, you bring him back, too. Right now, I'm so mad, I don't give a shit what happens to Bella… but I want my brothers and my sister returned safely." He gives me a nod, then turns to leave. "Be careful, twin," he whispers, just before the door closes behind him.

When he is gone, Hunter turns to me. "I like your brother," he smirks. "He's going to make one fine leader. Now, lets get you ready to leave on your mission."

It takes less than ten minutes for me to change from my regular uniform into my Ranger gear. I'm dressed in my pigskin pants, moccasins, and over-shirt. Hunter helps me arrange the dried food packets so that the weight is evenly distributed, then fills the water bladder and inserts it and its tube into the pocket on my back. He tells me to leave the extra bladder empty, but to take it – just in case something happens to the first one, or if the usual water sources have dried up, and I find I need to carry more water between stops. When I pick up the extra cloak, though, he tells me I can leave it; apparently, when Bella escaped and kidnapped Alice, she also stole enough gear for the two of them.

After donning my cloak, I adjust my sword, quiver, and bow on my back, positioning my wooden shield over them. My whip is looped in its holder on my left shoulder, and my knife, in its sheath, is tied to my right thigh. Hunter then shows me a smaller copy of the map we have been studying, before tucking it into my left chest pocket. With one last check of my gear and clothing, he pronounces me ready to leave.

We pass a few people on our way out of the city; each one wishes me safe journey. When we exit through the gates, I find my parents waiting for me. In my rush to prepare, I had forgotten all about them – and how they must feel about Alice's disappearance.

Guilt overcomes me as I look into my mother's stricken face. She places her hands on my shoulders, pulling me closer to her, as she leans in towards my ear. "You find her, Edward," she whispers softly. "Find Alice and Jasper; bring them… and yourself… back to us."

She steps back beside Father; and with a nod and sad smiles, they repeat the formal words that the Commanding Officer spoke earlier, wishing me a successful mission and a safe return.

With a last goodbye, Hunter and I turn towards the valley entrance, breaking into a comfortable jog that covers the distance quickly. Dr. Banner is waiting for me when we enter the barracks at the wall. He hands me a small container of medicine and first aid supplies, which I store in one of my over-shirt pockets. He, too, wishes me a safe journey.

And then we are through the wall and out the entrance gate, leaving the valley behind us as we head south along the path towards the Wastelands. The trail is easy to find; it is the one we've used each time we had a scouting trip outside the valley. We pass through the cooler forest of the foothills before descending into a warmer, drier area of small trees and bushes.

Hunter stays with me for several hours, our easy lope covering the miles until we come to the beginning of the desert – and the start of the side trail that turns left towards Ares Vallis. Here, we stop. I know that he will be not be going any farther with me.

I'm suddenly tongue-tied. I have so much I need to say to him, so many things to thank him for – but I can't seem to find the words to express how much I appreciate everything he has done for me, how much I value his friendship. I shift uncomfortably, trying to find some way to start the conversation.

He must feel the same, because he finally breaks the awkward silence with a slight laugh and a pat to my shoulder. "You know, Edward, I'm really glad they made me stick around to train one more Ranger. You may have been a pain in the ass at times, but you're one damn fine soldier. I'm proud to call you a fellow Ranger. And when you get back, I'm really going to be one happy fucker, because I can finally muster out, marry Kate and have lots of babies."

That smirk I've grown so accustomed to is back in place when I smile at him. "Hunter… "

But he interrupts me before I can finish. "Quit stalling, boy, and get on with it. I'm getting old just standing here. Safe journey, and all that shit," he laughs again, then turns and begins walking away.

I watch him for a moment or two before calling out after him. "Hunter… "

When he turns back, I finally ask. "What am I going to find out there?"

He squints past me at the dry, barren landscape, before focusing back on me. "The truth, Edward. You're going to find the truth."

And then he is gone, loping quickly back along the way we just traveled, as I turn to face the trail in front of me.

AN: I want to thank everyone for the wonderful reviews and comments I've received. I know chapter 13 surprised many of you. Your continued support of my story is heartwarming and I can not express how much it means to me. Thank you.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

AN: Thank you, Bellebiter, for your belief in me and in my story. All remaining mistakes are mine.

The Protector

Chapter 15

EPOV

There is a serene beauty to this dusty, parched desert landscape that I've never taken the time to notice before. We moved through it as a group on our way to and from the cliffs at the edge of the Wastelands, of course. But we were scouting for evidence of Yippers, or Thaays, or trying to avoid territorial Fangers – not appreciating the quiet serenity that surrounds me now.

It's not completely silent. A slight breeze rustles the leaves on a few small, dull-green plants, and sends the ones that let go tumbling across my pathway. It lifts the dry dust I disturb with my footsteps and urges it forward, slithering and swirling along the trail in front of me. There are squeaks and chirps and chitterings of small animals that skitter out of my way as I jog past. I knew there was more wildlife out here than we suspected; we just never took the time to really pay attention. With my improved mental awareness on higher alert, I can feel them – halting in place when I approach, then resuming their activities as I pass.

Brown would have been the word I used to describe this place in the past. But now, alone… with just my thoughts and my own perceptions to consider… I realize brown is a poor choice for the blended assortment of rich rusts, golden ambers and dusky beiges that color the landscape. Some of the rocks and boulders that litter the area are layered in variegated shades of tan and russet and bronze; others are so dark that they appear almost black, and look like the charcoal we use in our kilns.

The trail is faint, and shows little use, blowing dust has obscured most of it. An occasional rock cairn marks the path, though, and keeps me on track. While the sun has slowly dropped towards the horizon as the afternoon progressed, I've tried to keep it at my back, always facing away from it as I head east. As long as it is behind me, I can't really get lost.

From time to time, I find clues that someone has recently passed this way – the slightest impression of a foot, or a broken twig, or a crushed leaf – signs so faint that I would never have noticed them without my training; I can only hope they are from Bella and Alice. I'm still having trouble accepting the fact that Bella has Alice with her – and that they are out here, just the two of them, without any protection.

But then, perhaps, they _do_ have some type of protection.

Those calluses on Bella's hands… her left was rough from the palm to the fingertips, as though she had been grasping a bow; the fingertips of her right hand had hardened, thickened areas, just where a bowstring would rest. And that scrape along her left forearm looked like the type of injury a trainee would receive from neglecting to wear an arm guard properly – exactly like those that form when someone is using a bow and arrow repeatedly… and often. Is it possible she has been training with someone during the last few months, when she claimed to be with the Thaay?

That thought almost brings me to a halt in the middle of the trail, as I remember Hunter describing Jasper as "an excellent marksman with the bow." If Jasper is still alive – and if he is still with the Thaay – could he be the one training Bella? I can't help but curse when I realize that I missed the perfect opportunity at the tribunal to ask her about Jasper. More ideas pop in and out of my head as I try to fit the pieces of this confusing puzzle together. I can find no solutions, however, because there are still too many missing clues.

As the sun begins to set, the temperature drops quickly, just as I had been told that it would. Hunter warned me, over and over, not to let myself get too chilled when my sweat began to dry; a sudden drop in my body temperature could lead to increasingly slow and muddled thinking, preventing me from making rational decisions. Since I plan to keep moving for at least a few more hours if possible, I stop for a short break and put the knitted thermals on under my pants and over-shirt. After drinking several sips of water and snacking on some dried fruit, I resume my journey towards the canyon.

Both moons are out tonight, and – between their combined light – I can see fairly well. The smaller, brighter one will set in a couple of hours, however, and then I'll have to stop for the night. Even with all my senses on alert, it will still be too dangerous to continue. I cannot afford a twisted ankle or some other injury.

From what I can figure out, Bella and Alice have about an eighteen-hour lead on me. I'm hoping I can travel faster and farther than they can, and cut off part of that lead; but it still means that they will reach Ares Vallis before me. Crossing the canyon will be the most dangerous part of their journey, because of the increased threat of the Yippers. If they head to Korinth to resupply, I can realistically hope to catch up with them there.

Even though I don't want to stop, by the time it gets too dark to continue safely, I know that I need to. I've already stumbled twice over hidden rocks in the trail, and my leg muscles are beginning to ache from almost eight hours of non-stop jogging.

I find two large rock formations with a small, almost concealed space between them. After scanning for any hidden animals – including mentally seeking out any lurking Fangers – I make camp in the narrow area bordered by the formations. The rocks have absorbed the heat from the sun, and will gradually, through the night, release it back into the small space, keeping me warmer. They will also protect me from the night wind, which has gotten stronger as the temperature has dropped.

The desert floor here is deep, soft sand, so I'm able to scoop out a depression to fit my body, making a deeper cavity for my hips and shoulders. The water bladder still has plenty of water, so I drink deeply and freely, but reserve enough for two more days. I should be able to resupply at one of the water holes in the canyon; and, if I have to, I can make it to Korinth on what I have left.

I also make sure I eat plenty of the food that I have been carrying. Kate has given me strips of pork, seasoned with spices and cured to prevent spoilage. In addition, I find some crackers and goat cheese, dried berries, and a fresh apple that I devour eagerly. When I have finished eating, I arrange myself and my weapons in my campsite. My cloak is wrapped completely under and around me, the hood drawn up over my head. Bow and sword are beside me on my left, quiver under my head for a pillow, and my wooden shield is covering my chest. My knife is still strapped to my right thigh.

With the moons below the horizon, the sky above me is deep black, its darkness liberally sprinkled with stars. Some big, some small, some brilliant and glowing; others so dull they can barely be seen. I wonder if some of them could be other planets like mine, and if there are people on them, living lives like mine. Those thoughts are too compelling to consider at the end of such a long, exhausting day – so I roll over onto my left side, checking that my weapons are within reach, and surrender my tired body to deep, deep sleep.

It is still very cold when I awaken the next morning, stiff and sore from sleeping on the ground. I managed to stay warm during the night, however, thanks in part to the camp site I selected – but mainly from the goat-hair thermals, which proved to be worth every hour of labor that someone devoted to making them. I decide to leave them on until my muscles have a chance to warm up; so, with a quick bite to eat and a drink of water, I arrange my gear and weapons and begin my trek towards Ares Vallis.

This time, I head straight into the rising sun – the deep, muted rose of the sky around it gradually giving way to streaks of orange and red as it climbs higher into the sky above me. It only takes an hour or so before the thermals are too warm to wear; I take a break and quickly strip out of them. When I pack them away in my over-shirt, I find another packet of crackers and goat cheese, combine them with a handful of dried fruit and a long drink of water, and continue on my way.

The entire day is spent alternating between short periods of walking and longer stretches of jogging. I sip from my water bladder and snack on nuts and dried fruit while I move. I'm trying to reach the edge of the canyon by nightfall; a distance that, according to the map, normally takes two full days. From there, it is a day's journey across to Korinth – where I hope to catch Bella and Alice, unless I find evidence that they have turned south towards the Wastelands. I could travel faster by sprinting or running, but it would mean descending the canyon wall with the sun behind me, and then camping on the canyon floor – something I need to avoid, if possible. But if I time this correctly, I'll be climbing down with the morning light to guide me, leaving me a straight shot across the canyon to the other side, which I plan to cover in one day.

Once again, I find myself admiring the strange beauty of this place. As the sun moves to its zenith in the sky, the colors seem to fade out, leaving the landscape appearing more bleached and barren, covered in grayed tones of beige. I move through this space – silent, alone – disturbing only the dust beneath my feet, which settles into place as I pass. Ten minutes after I'm gone, no one but a trained scout would know I have ever been here.

I reach Ares Vallis just as the sun slips below the horizon. I'm tired, hungry and more thirsty than I had anticipated; our training has always been vigorous, but I've never pushed myself this hard. The abundance of boulders means plenty of possible campsites, and it doesn't long to arrange my gear and settle in for the night. Once again, I am thankful for the warm layers of clothing I add when the temperature plummets.

I'm still carrying plenty of rations, so I eat my fill, knowing that I'll need all my strength to cover the remaining, crucial distance – from my campsite, across the canyon floor, and all the way up the other side to Korinth – in just one day. Water is becoming a problem, however. I've consumed more than I anticipated today, and even now I am still very thirsty. I decide to drink half of what I have, so that my muscles can recover from today's exertions, and try to find water at the first source on the map. The sky is hazy tonight, filled with dust that a strong wind from the north seems to be blowing in, so I can't do any star gazing. Minutes after I've settled into my makeshift bed, I am sound asleep.

The sky is barely light when I locate the rock cairn marking the best route down the canyon wall. The map shows several routes, but I've tried to find the one closest to a water source. The trail uses the natural contours of the land to switch-back its way down to level ground. It is not too steep, but it does take all my concentration not to lose my way as it twists and turns on itself before leveling out. I'm glad I have the morning light to see by.

According to the map, there should be a possible water source located between two tall, spire-like formations within sight from the bottom of the trail. Eventually, I spy them just off to my right, a little distance ahead. As I head towards them at a nice comfortable jog, I let my awareness spread out around me, seeking any evidence of Yippers or other dangers nearby. I find nothing; but I double-check to be sure, right before ducking into the sheltered space where the spring should be located.

Just as Hunter had described, a large, flat rock covers an area of damp sand. I push the rock to one side, and buried beneath it is a short-handled shovel and a small metal cup. I have to dig down about three feet before water starts to trickle into the hole I've made. It's muddy at first; but as I use the cup to scoop out the brackish water, fresher looking water begins to seep in. A tentative sip from the cup tells me the water is drinkable, with no odor or aftertaste. After drinking what is left in my water bladder, I refill it using the cup. I briefly consider filling my second bladder, but decide against it in the interest of saving time – and the fact that I should be able to make it to Korinth before nightfall. Using the shovel to push the sand back into the hole, I place the cup and shovel on top before covering everything with the flat rock.

More time has passed than I expected, so when I leave the water source, I start jogging at a faster pace as I begin to cross the canyon floor. The morning stretches on, and I make good time. My muscles have gradually loosened; and with plenty of water, food and rest, I feel strong and relaxed. The canyon floor is a mixture of hardpan and sand, interspersed with rocky areas that demand all of my careful attention to cross. I remember Hunter describing it as a large water drainage – although it seems impossible that so much free water could have once existed – but it is plain to see how water has shaped the gorge.

Although I keep close attention to my surroundings, I sense no danger. In fact, it occurs to me that I cannot feel any life at all… either near, or far. I briefly wonder if I should be concerned, since wildlife, including Yippers, frequent this area for water; but the rare relief of not having to worry about their threat overshadows any concerns about their absence.

It is mid-afternoon when I begin to get a feeling of wrongness. I still can't sense any life around me, so I know that is not the cause.

Yet it is there.

A feeling of missing something important that I should be aware of. I've been careful to stay hydrated, taking frequent drinks of water, and I've snacked throughout the day to keep my strength up. But the sense of danger continues to grow.

The wind has picked up as the day has progressed, blowing steadily from the north. Once or twice, there have been stronger gusts that temporarily threw me off my pace. The dust has gotten worse, too; and finally I have to stop, raise my hood, and fasten the breathing filter over my nose and mouth. I glance to the north… and what I see there frightens me more than anything I have ever experienced before.

It is a haboob: a dust storm so big – and so intense – that it fills the horizon for as far as I can see. The upper clouds of rolling dust are shades of brown that gradually darken to almost black next to the ground. Even as I watch, it seems to grow and expand, blocking out the sun, as it speeds down the canyon towards me. It is still miles away, but I can hear the high-pitched shriek of the wind and the low growl of the grinding sand.

We've been taught what they are, but I've never really seen one – at least not like this; the mountains around our valley protected us from the full brunt of their fury whenever they blew down from the north. The sky over our entire valley would turn dark brown, and we were warned to stay inside to avoid breathing the dust. I remember the trainers telling us stories of the wind and sand flaying the skin and muscle from the bone, and lungs unable to breathe from filling up with dust. No one was allowed outside the protection of the valley when a haboob blew in.

Now I'm standing unprotected, in the middle of a canyon that seems to be funneling the worst of the storm directly at me.

I turn towards Korinth… and I run. I run until my heart pounds and my breath rasps with every gasp. I run while the wind tries to tear the weapons from my back and the cloak from my body. I run while the sky above me turns black with dust, and I can barely see in front of me.

When I've reached my limit, I pop my shield open and wrap myself in its protection. I feel the strain of maintaining it immediately; but it gives me a chance to catch my breath, drink some water, and rest for a minute. Watching the sand hit the shield and slide off is a strange sensation. The wind is pushing on it, however, and I'm finding it difficult to stand. I also know I cannot maintain it indefinitely; I have to find shelter, and the safest place will be Korinth.

I begin to run again.

When I reach the canyon wall, I'm able to find cover from the worst of the wind and sand behind some large rocks. I drop my shield. The wind shrieks and howls above me, and the sand pounds of the rocks that guard my back. I know that if I am to live through this storm, I must be very careful and think about the choices I make over the next couple of hours. I consider a number of options; but in the end, I know trying to reaching Korinth is the only logical thing to do. I can't survive without my shield, and I can't keep it open long enough to outlast the storm. Haboobs can last several days – and I haven't even seen the worst of the it yet. I open my shield again, and begin the climb up the canyon wall.

Time seems to slow as I fight my way upwards… slipping and sliding on the dirt that continues to shift beneath my feet, as the wind tries to blow me from the path. At one point, I expand my shield, trying to lessen the effect of the wind. It helps for a while, and I'm able to make better progress. But as my strength begins to wane, the shield flickers and starts to collapse… so I quickly pull it back, closer to me. Even so, I'm barely keeping the grinding sand off me as I eventually resort to crawling over the rocks and dirt to reach the top of the wall.

The wind seems less powerful when I finally reach level ground, and I'm able to stand again; the deep gorge of the canyon must intensify the wind as it funnels through it. I can barely make out a range of foothills in the distance, and what appears to be a man-made stone wall with an entry gate. There is a fairly level path that leads to it.

I'm tired to my very core, but I stumble on – shield barely holding – towards the gate…and safety.

Pounding on the gate brings no response, so I grope my way along the wall until I find a side door. At the top, threaded through a small opening, is a thick rope flapping in the wind; when I pull on it, a bar inside is lifted, and I'm able to push my way inside.

The thick stone walls lessen the noise of the storm; yet although I call out as loudly as I can, no one answers me. The building I am in seems to mimic the layout of our own wall barracks. There is a small decontamination shower room that opens into a hallway lined with several closed doors. The first two I open reveal some type of office or small meeting room; the next is a large dormitory, with bed-cots and small storage chests. Finally, I find a mess hall with an attached kitchen. Except for furniture, all the rooms are empty. I see no personal items, no clothing, no weapons. The whole place has an abandoned feeling, and a fine layer of dust covers everything.

At first glance, the food storage rooms appear empty, too; but the last one I check contains several boxes of dried food packets, and a dozen or more sealed pottery jugs of some type of liquid. It looks like an emergency provisions cache. When I break the seal on the first jug, I find water – cool from being stored in the thick crockery of the dark storage room. It's delicious, and I drink almost half of it before my thirst is quenched.

There are windows and a door on one side of the mess hall that face a small, protected courtyard at the back of the building. When I open the door slightly, I can see what appears to be a road leading off, towards what I assume is the rest of the valley. The storm is still raging outside, so I quickly close the door, returning to sit at one of the tables in the mess hall.

It's very obvious that no one has been here in some time. If Korinth is anything like my home, there are probably a few villages, and maybe a bigger central city. It is possible that the inhabitants have withdrawn into a more protected area, especially with the approach of the haboob. I hope Bella and Alice are with them.

Faced with the realization that there is nothing I can do now but ride out the storm, I retrace my steps to the dormitory. Searching through one of the storage chests, I find candles, flint, and an assortment of bed linens and towels. Lighting several candles, I make my way back to the shower room, hoping that the storage tanks might still contain enough water for me to clean up. The trickle that exits from the pipe is cold, but I welcome the chance to wash the dust and sweat from my hair and body. I chuckle as I watch the muddy rivulets disappear down the drain.

My clothing is filthy and coated in dust, so I pull on my thermals and return to the sleeping room. It doesn't take long to arrange blankets and a pillow on one of the cot-beds, and within minutes I fall into an exhausted sleep.

The storm finally blows itself out late during the afternoon of the third day. I've spent my time cleaning my gear and my clothes, eating, drinking, and sleeping… a lot. When I awoke the morning after arriving, my muscles were so sore that I could barely hobble to the toilets to relieve myself, and then on to the kitchen to find something to eat and drink. I slept most of that day.

By the next afternoon, when it is apparent that the storm is finally lessening, I've become anxious to explore the rest of the valley and search for its inhabitants. The sky is still dusty when I exit through the back door and start down the road, headed towards a walled city that I can see at the other end of the valley.

The road passes by fenced pastures and fields. Dust from the storm has drifted into piles against anything in its path – leaving some areas covered in sand, and other areas scoured bare by the force of the winds. The trees of what was once an orchard have been stripped of their leaves, and broken branches litter the ground.

Things improve closer to the city. This end of the valley is surrounded by higher mountains that offer better protection; I also begin to see more green in the fields and trees. I pass several towers that must be the 'windmills' Hunter spoke about. Water flows from one, through a pipe and into a irrigation ditch that winds its way towards a field of wheat.

Except for the sound of the dying wind blowing through the grass and the creak of the blades turning on the windmills, there are no other sounds: no animals, no birds, no people.

The city gate is open when I reach it. I spend the next couple of hours searching every house, every barrack, every kitchen, dining hall and storage room… but there is no one here. It appears there hasn't been anyone here in some time. I use my mental awareness to search all the surrounding area, but I can feel no life whatsoever.

As night begins to set in, I do the only thing I can: I return, disappointed, to the barracks at the entry wall – and prepare to spend another night. I've been on my mission for five days, and haven't found Bella or Alice yet.

But I have found an empty and deserted Korinth.

AN: Thank you, again, for reading and reviewing. The review function was not working properly last week which made it difficult to respond to your comments. I sincerely apologize if I missed your review. Thank you.


	16. Chapter 16

These characters are not mine, but the plot is; as are all the mistakes that remain after Bellebiter worked her magic.

The Protector

Chapter 16

EPOV

As soon as it is light enough to see, I leave Korinth and head towards Ares Vallis. I'm desperate to make up time lost to the storm, to find Bella and Alice without even worse delays. Before going to bed, I made use of the stored provisions, carefully packing enough food to last me at least five days; I'm hoping I can make it to the border of the green fog in less than three. I've also filled both my water bladders – because I am not sure I will be able to find any water sources after the devastation of the storm, and because I don't want to take the time to stop. The extra weight is uncomfortable at first, but I adjust quickly.

The climb down the canyon wall is difficult; the sand has obliterated any evidence of a trail. I have to pick my way carefully, and more than once I'm forced to backtrack when the path I've chosen becomes impassable due to large boulders or sheer drop-offs. It's the same when I finally reach the canyon floor. There is nothing left to indicate where the trail heads south; so, eventually, I turn left and head towards the Wastelands.

The storm evidence is everywhere: drifts of sand and dust piled up against any obstacle; uprooted plants; even a few small, stunted trees that have been stripped of their bark. The middle of the canyon floor has been scoured clean, however, and – although I can find no evidence of a marked trail – I make good use of my time, covering mile after mile in a comfortable lope.

By mid-afternoon, it becomes obvious that I am descending through the break in the cliffs, towards the sloping land of what I now know was once an ocean floor. The gorge is much wider here, but I can still see the sides growing taller and taller as I descend. The land gradually flattens out, and then the cliffs are behind me.

I have entered the Wastelands.

I've been careful to keep myself on full alert. I'm sure the animals that found refuge from the storm for the last three days will be actively seeking food and water, now that it is finally over. The Yippers will be the worst, making it particularly important for me to find a safe camping spot tonight. There is a tall rock formation some distance ahead of me; I pick up my pace and head towards it.

I'm scanning the area around me when I sense them: Yippers – and a large pack, from the feel of it. They are behind me and still some distance away, so I make the decision to sprint for the rock and save my strength for my shield if I can't outrun them. They're fast, but I'm managing to stay far enough ahead of them to feel confident I will reach the rocks before they can catch me.

As I near the tall formation, I can see several smaller boulders at the base. If I can scramble to the top of them, I should be able to reach a ledge on the rocks above them, and use that to hoist myself up onto the taller part of the formation. It appears to be a perfect place to escape the reach of the Yippers.

I'm getting closer now – but so are they. I can hear their howls and short, yipping cries as they call out to each other. Another smaller group has joined in their race towards me; I can sense them off to my right. I'm sprinting now, running as hard as I can, still feeling strong, still feeling confident that I can reach safety before they can reach me. All my mental awareness is focused behind me, on them, as I take my first leap onto the nearest boulder.

One of our trainers once told us that it is always something small, or silly, or stupid that leads to errors. An instant of forgetfulness, one momentary lapse of judgement; this is when mistakes are made. Mistakes that can cost you your life – or the lives of those around you. And so – just like Hunter's story about Liam and the lack of concentration that eventually led to his death – I make the stupid mistake of focusing all my awareness on the Yippers behind me, and forget to scan the rocks before me.

As I leap from the tallest boulder and reach for the ledge above me, my hand lands on the Fanger that is lying there, hidden just out of my view. I know what it is as soon as I touch it – the slight give of its muscled, scaly body a direct contrast to the flinty slickness of the rocks – but I can do nothing until my other hand is beside it, and I am pulling myself up onto the ledge, scrambling to get out of its reach.

There is no way to escape its strike.

Even as I'm trying to get to my feet and stand – even as I'm trying to open my shield to protect me – I can see its mouth open wide… and the fangs descend into the fleshy area between my thumb and first finger on my right hand. It pulls back and strikes again – but I've moved my hand now, and this time it hits my ankle. The double layers of pant and moccasin leather prevent the fangs from reaching my skin. The pain in my hand is immediate; but I don't stop moving… and the next minute, I'm climbing the rocks above me, and out of its reach.

There is a large, flat area with a small overhang, almost like a small cave, at the top. I head for that – pulling off my weapons, cloak and over-shirt – while I search through the pockets for the first aid kit that Dr. Banner gave me. My hand and arm are now on fire. The pain is excruciating, and I have to clench my jaw to keep from crying out; I can almost feel the venom spreading through my veins. The Fanger was the largest I have ever seen – and I'm sure its venom is stronger, too – so I quickly swallow double the dosage of anti-venom medicine. I clean and bandage the wound as best I can. By the time I am finished, the fever and chills have already started.

I try to make camp under the overhang. The water bladders, my food and my weapons are set aside within easy reach. I fumble my way into my thermals, and then re-dress in all my layers. It proves to be difficult, since my right hand and arm are next to useless, and the pain of moving them causes my vision to blur. Eventually, I wrap myself in my cloak and lie down, using my quiver for a pillow. Knowing the importance of drinking plenty of water to make the medicine more effective, I pull my water bladder and tube to me and drink until I can hold no more, before taking two of the pain tablets that I hope will give me some relief. Completely exhausted and wracked by fever and chills, I succumb to the numbing comfort of the drugs.

My rest is filled with a muddled mix of terror, pain, and the relentless howling of Yippers. In my dreams, I watch the Fanger strike at my hand over and over; watch while the fangs slowly sink into the flesh, and emerge covered in blood… a drop of venom glistening on each tip. I cry out and jerk away, trying to escape; but I am trapped in an unending cycle of nightmares.

Vague, indistinct faces swim in and out of my view. I know I should recognize them; I know they are important… but each time I try to focus, I slip back into my delirium. I hear their voices, see their mouths open and close, speaking to me in distorted words that I struggle to understand.

Once, I wake enough to feel my head being lifted and several pills being pressed between my lips, followed by a voice telling me to swallow. Cool water fills my mouth and slides down my parched throat. "Sleep," the voice commands. And I obey.

I awake sometime later – bathed in sweat, and still somewhat confused – to see two hooded figures seated beside me. Their voices are hushed as they argue about trying to escape the Yippers, who still surround the formation we are on, and if it is safe to move me.

When I groan and shift slightly, the smaller one leans forward and softly calls my name. "Edward, can you hear me?" A hand pushes the hood back, and I find myself looking at Bella. "How do you feel? Do you know who I am?"

"Bella?" I manage to croak out, as I stare at her face.

"Oh, Edward, Edward. We've been so worried about you!" She leans over, gently hugging me. "Do you think you can move?"

I shift again, trying to sit – but a wave of dizziness and nausea sweeps over me, and I'm wracked with a jolt of pain in my arm and shoulder. Breathless, I fall back onto the pad of blankets that I seem to be resting on, groaning from the bone-shuddering chills that grip me.

"We've run out of time. He isn't getting any better," she states to the other figure sitting near her. "We have to get him off this rock and to the hospital. Now!"

The person bends towards me and pushes back his hood as well. My eyes widen in astonishment as I stare into the face I haven't seen in over nine months. "Jasper?" I whisper. "Is that really you, brother? We thought you were dead."

"I know – and I'm _sorry_ ," he answers. I can hear the regret in his voice. "None of that was planned. I was supposed to return, supposed to help Hunter train you. But… " Jasper smiles slightly, shaking his head, "sometimes the most _unexpected_ things happen and everything changes." His smile broadens as he looks down at me.

"And then," he rolls his eyes, smirking at me, "the most talented, most _weirdly_ powerful Ranger in our history… sticks his hand in front of a Fanger, and everything falls apart. And the woman crazy enough to fall in love with him," he teases, turning towards Bella, "can't stay away for three months, disobeys orders, and sneaks back into the valley to see him. Gets caught trying to leave – only to be tried and convicted of treason. Yeah, I'd say _none_ of this went according to plan!"

"What… ?"

"Sorry," he mutters. "Too much, too soon. Bella is right, though – we need to get you some medical treatment as soon as possible."

The two of them discuss strategies and plans as I drift in and out of awareness. The fever has returned, and I can feel myself shaking with chills again.

"Edward." I must have drifted off to sleep, because Bella is leaning over me, shaking me gently to get my attention. "Can you listen? Jasper and I are going to use all the arrows, and try to get rid of as many Yippers as possible; then he'll try to put the rest of them to sleep. But you are going to have to try to move. We can help you, but not much. Can you do that?"

I try to nod and mumble a yes.

"Good. Go back to sleep and rest. We'll wake you when we're ready."

There is movement and sound around me. I can hear footsteps as they move over the rocks, the twang of bowstrings as they are released, and the swish of the arrows as they fly through the air. I manage to open and focus my eyes on Jasper and Bella as they position themselves with purpose around the formation, shooting arrow after arrow in deliberate precision at the Yippers below.

Even through the confused haze of the fever and the pain of the chills that wrack my body, the sight of Bella in Ranger leathers – legs wide and braced; hood thrown back, hair blowing in the wind; cloak snapping with each gust, as she expertly handles the bow – is one that will be branded in my mind for all time. I am in awe of the raw power of this woman.

When they have used all the arrows they have, they come back to me; and, after arranging my weapons on my back, they support me, one on each side, as we slowly make our way down the opposite side of the rocks. My legs are weak and my head spins, but we make steady progress – carefully easing from boulder to boulder, and ledge to ledge – until we reach the last drop-off to the ground below. Although there are many less than before, there are still enough Yippers to make it impossible to simply climb down onto the sand.

Bella explains that as soon as Jasper can put them to sleep, we will drop down the rest of the way, and move – as quickly as possible – to something she points to, sitting on the sand a short distance away from us. It looks like a large, four-wheeled covered cart; but I don't see any way to pull it, or to make it move.

Jasper stills beside us. Bella stops talking and we watch, quietly, as – one by one – the remaining Yippers lie down… and fall asleep. Carefully, Jasper and Bella lower me to the ground; and, when they join me, we start towards the cart that Bella whispers is called a 'ground rover.'

We are halfway there when we see movement off to our right. A large Yipper has rounded the corner from the far side of the rocks, stalking us. He seems confused to see his pack mates lying on the ground. They begin to stir slightly as he noses them, and soon they are all slowly starting to wake.

"I can't control them all," Jasper yells. "Get Edward into the rover, Bella, go!" He has his whip in his right hand and his shield over his left, as he slowly follows us, facing the Yippers as he backs away.

It only takes one glance to know that it is a hopeless cause: there are too many of them, and they are too close. Bella and I both realize this at the same time.

In my befuddled state I turn, stumbling, and fumble to arm myself with my whip and wooden shield; but before I can, Bella is holding my face in both of her hands, staring into my eyes.

"You have to open your mental shield, Edward. It's the only way to save us." I can hear the pleading in her voice, see the determination in her eyes. "Do it, Edward. Protect us."

Something in her voice triggers a memory… and suddenly, I am back on that fort in my childhood dream, promising to always protect her. As I begin mumbling the fragments of a long-ago vow…"Yes!" I hear her say. "Protect Bella, protect us. Now, Edward!"

Responding to her command, I pop open my shield – instantly covering the three of us – just seconds before the first Yipper launches itself at us. It drops to the ground, stunned; but more are on the way, as we struggle towards the rover.

The shield is draining me quickly. My strength all but gone, and I feel myself falling towards the ground. Then Jasper is crouching in front of me, yelling at me to get on his back. He stands, grabs my legs, wrapping them around him – and begins to run. Bella is beside us, and I struggle to stay focused on her and my shield as my head flops uselessly against Jasper's back.

We are completely surrounded by Yippers now… their howls a constant din… with only my shield holding them off us. But it is flickering, as I feel the last of my energy drain away. My heart begins to slow, and my vision narrows… until all I can see is Bella's face. Her mouth moves, and I know she is yelling something at Jasper… but my hearing is gone now, too.

Time seems to slow, as I watch her reach out to me. She carefully pushes my sleeve away; and then, with both hands, she grabs my arm tightly. There is a sudden jolt of – _something_. It races through my body, speeding up my heart, clearing my vision, and restoring my hearing. My shield snaps out, solidifying into a dome around us and pushing the Yippers away at the same time. I feel strong, energized, the pain fading away from my right arm and shoulder.

A large door opens when we reach the side of the rover; I swing down from Jasper's back. Then Bella – still gripping my arm – crawls with me into a narrow space, just long enough for us to lie down. Jasper follows us. When he closes the door, he tells me that we are safe now and that I can retract my shield. Then he reaches over, and gently pulls Bella's hands off my arm.

"What did she do?" I ask, examining her closely. Her face is very pale, dark circles under her closed eyes. Her breathing is erratic and shallow. I'm instantly concerned, frantic over the changes in her. "Jasper… ?"

"Saved our asses, is what she did," he answers. "But she'll be alright," he assures me. "She just needs to rest for a couple of days."

There is a bench of some kind at one end of the space; Jasper crawls over to it and sits down. In front of him is a large wheel, and several kinds of knobs and levers. He touches them, then places his hand on the wheel… and we begin to move. I watch him carefully. He seems to be able to control the direction we are moving by turning the wheel; the speed is controlled by pedals at his feet. He glances over his shoulder to see me watching him. "Rest now, Edward," he tells me. "We have a ways to go, and you need to get your strength back."

I nod, lying down on my back.

The top of the rover is made of some kind of clear material. I watch the sky above me, with an occasional glimpse of tall rocks as we pass by them. The infusion of energy that Bella gave me has worn off… and I'm suddenly very, very tired. I glance over at her where she is resting beside me. Her color seems better, and her breathing has deepened into a true sleep. My hand finds hers, and I fall asleep holding it.

When I awake, I find myself lying in the narrow bed of a small, white room. Slender, rectangular windows line the top of one wall, allowing a scant amount of weak sunlight into the room. I can see a closed door on the wall to my right, and there is another almost behind me, over my left shoulder. More light comes from somewhere in back of me, but I can't tell what the source is.

There are metal rails on the upper part of each side of the bed. When I lift my left hand to touch them, I notice something thin – almost like a sewing needle – embedded into the skin on the back of my hand. A long, clear tube is attached to it, and I follow it with my eyes to where it connects to an equally clear bag of fluid on a stand beside my bed. There is some sort of machinery beside it; numbers flash on and off from time to time, and a soft beeping sound mimics a bouncing line that moves across it. When I move, the sound speeds up – waking the person whose head, I now realize, has been resting on my leg.

"Bella," I whisper, watching her yawn and blink the sleep from her eyes. She is sitting in a chair beside my bed. She smiles softly when she realizes I'm awake. "You look better than the last time I saw you," I add, thinking of her sleeping next to me in the back of the rover.

"So do you," she chuckles.

"Where are we?"

"A hospital."

She shifts uncomfortably when I cock an eyebrow, obviously expecting a more complete answer from her.

"It's like an infirmary; only larger, and better equipped."

"A Thaay hospital?" I ask.

"Uhh, I… " she stutters.

"Bella… ?"

"I'm sorry, Edward. I can't… "

Frustrated, I huff loudly when I get no answers from her. "Fine. But if you can't tell me anything, then I want to know who can. I'm tired of vague, half-answers. I'm tired of being kept in the dark, of not knowing what is going on. And… "

My voice has grown louder with my frustration, and the irritating, beeping sound of the machine speeds up.

"Can you turn that annoying thing off?"

She stands and touches something on the side of the machine, and the beeping stops.

"Thank you."

"And," I continue, "I want to know… Oh, shit!" I suddenly remember that Bella had taken Alice with her when she escaped. "Where is Alice? Is she safe?" I demand. "Bella, you took a thirteen-year-old girl out into the Wastelands? What were you thinking?"

I'm sitting up in the bed now, glaring at her as I struggle to escape the blankets wrapped around me, the needle and tube in my hand making it even harder. My helplessness only adds to my feelings of frustration. Bella is staring at me, wide-eyed, as she slowly backs away.

"I'm sorry. I know you're upset, but Alice is fine. She was never in any real danger."

I think about the haboob and the destruction it caused, the Fanger that bit me, and the Yippers that we barely escaped. The minute we left the valley, we were all in danger. I want to yell at her and ask her what she thought 'real danger' was. The wariness on her face stops me, however. Even though I'm not happy with her answer, I never want her to be afraid of me.

"I've been so worried about her, about both of you. The last three months have been incredibly confusing and frustrating for me, Bella! You disappeared and never came to the socials; I find out I can make this shield thing appear; Hunter is always hinting about ' _we_ ' – but never tells me who ' _they'_ are. Then, you confess to treason – and escape with my sister! I know there is something going on; even Emmett suspects something. But I can't get any answers… it's just secrets and more secrets."

I sigh deeply as I look at her.

"I'm tired of this, Bella, I really am. I want some answers – and if you can't or won't tell me, then I want to talk to someone who will. I want to see Jasper. I want to see Alice. I need to know she is safe."

I stop talking, hoping she will tell me something, but I get no response. Her silence only makes me more impatient.

"Look – I've done everything that has been asked of me… _everything_! I deserve to have some answers. I deserve to know what is going on."

Emotions race across Bella's face as I look at her expectantly: regret, frustration, resignation. "I'm sorry, Edward, but I can't… "

A door opens and closes behind my bed, and I hear footsteps enter the room. Bella's eyes widen a bit when she sees who is behind me.

"It's okay, Bella," a voice says, as the footsteps come closer. "You're right, Edward. You do deserve some answers."

I recognize the voice immediately; but I can't comprehend why she would be here, in this place.

"Your sister is safe; you can see her and Jasper soon," she continues. "I know you are frustrated, and I know you are angry… but Bella doesn't deserve your temper right now. And she's still in a bit of trouble for that stunt she pulled by sneaking off to see you," she laughs softly.

The footsteps continue as she rounds my bed, pulls out the chair, and sits down. "Now, I think it's time we have a chat – don't you, son?"

I stare, confused, at the woman sitting calmly in front of me. I know her – her face, her voice. I've seen and heard her since my beginning day.

"Mother… ?"

* * *

AN: I have to apologize for not responding to all the wonderful reviews from the last chapter. I've been spending a lot of time taking care of my 86 year-old mother, whose health is beginning to fail, and then I treated myself to a trip to San Diego for the TFMU. I had a wonderful time, met some great people and some of my favorite fanfic authors. To my new readers, thank you for joining me on this little journey and to everyone who is following or who has favorited me – your support means more than you can ever know. Many thanks to Bellebiter for all her hard work. Thanks again for reading.


	17. Chapter 17

No copyright infringement is intended. Bellebiter worked her magic, all remaining mistakes are mine.

The Protector

Chapter 17

EPOV

Mother smiles at me while I stare at her, trying to understand why she is sitting in a hospital room that is somehow connected to our enemies, the Thaay – and is, apparently, located somewhere in the Wastelands. Questions rush through my mind… first one, then another… as I stumble over what to say.

Finally, I manage to ask her what she is doing here.

Her smile gets even bigger as she chuckles softly at my discomfort.

"Well, first of all, I'm here because my son – whom I care about very much – managed to get himself bitten by a nasty Fanger, and I've been extremely worried about him. I wanted to make sure he was taken care of properly. And second, I guess you could say, I'm the person in charge. So I'm here to make sure everything goes according to plan for the next few days."

Once again, I'm left speechless as I try to understand what she has just told me. She's the one in charge?

"Mother… ?"

"Yes, dear."

"Are you a Thaay? Am I a Thaay?"

"Ahh," she sighs, "that's the real question, isn't it? And the real answer is yes… and no."

She must see the confusion and frustration on my face, because she leans towards me. "There are so many things I need to tell you, Edward. So many things you don't know about our true history, about who the Thaay actually are – and I promise that I will tell you all this. But first, Bella is going to go get the doctor… who is going to come in and check that you are recovered enough to get out of bed, and then he can take that needle out of your hand."

She looks up at Bella, who nods and walks towards the door. "Thank you, dear," Mother tells her as she leaves.

"Now: when the doctor has checked you and has decided that you are strong enough, you can have a shower and clean up. Then," she continues, "we'll arrange for you to get something to eat. After that, you have a very anxious little sister, who has been demanding to see you as soon as you woke up – as well as an older brother, who is also tired of waiting."

She stands and walks towards me, stopping when she is directly in front of me. From my sitting position on the bed, I have to look up at her. Slowly she reaches out, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and pulling me closer. I lay my head against her chest, just under her chin, my arms around her waist. Without really thinking about it, I shift both legs off to one side and scoot nearer to her. I can feel her chest rise as she breathes in and out, and I can still smell the faint scent of soap. The position feels vaguely familiar, and I feel myself relaxing into her motherly hug.

"I doubt that you can remember, Edward, but you were sick a lot when you were young." One hand begins to slowly rub up and down my back. "You had severe headaches, and trouble breathing that made it impossible for you to sleep. I would hold you like this in my lap, rub your back, and you would put your ear over my heart… just like you're doing now." Mother's chest moves as she laughs softly.

I smile, too, when I realize that I am, indeed, listening to her heartbeat.

"It seemed to soothe you and, after a while, you would be able to sleep. Your father and I worried about you, very much. Sometimes we weren't sure you were going to survive; but you were always a fighter. Seeing you in this bed, so sick from the Fanger's bite, brought back those painful memories for me. When they told us what had happened, we came as soon as we could."

I hear the door behind me open again. Mother nods to the man who has just entered, and steps away from me then. "I'll see you later, Edward."

"Take care of him," she tells the doctor, as she leaves the room.

"Yes, Ma'am," he answers, then turns to me, introducing himself as Marcus. When I raise my hand to salute, he laughs, and tells me to relax. "We aren't military here, Edward. No need for 'Sirs' or salutes. 'Doctor Marcus' will do just fine."

"Oh, okay," I mutter. "That may take a little getting used to."

"No problem. Now let me see your right hand, and we'll see how much damage that Fanger did."

Dr. Marcus gently unwraps the bandages from my hand, freeing it from the board that has held it stationary. It is only slightly swollen; but the area around the bite is deep purple, and the fang wounds are almost black. It is also quite tender when he touches it. I can't help but flinch slightly when he prods it harder.

"This is healing as well as can be expected," he states, while turning my hand over to examine both sides. "The bruising should gradually fade, but I think you will always have the discoloration where the fangs penetrated your skin. It is also possible you may have lost some of the mobility and sensation in this part of your hand, since there was some nerve damage due to the large amount of venom. Only time will tell to what extent, though. In the meantime, try not to use your hand too much, and if it hurts, stop. That is your body telling you not to exceed what it can safely do."

"I don't think I've every seen a bite this severe, Edward," he continues. "It must have been a really large serpent."

"Biggest one I've ever seen… or touched."

He chuckles at my attempted humor. "You know, Riley has a theory that the Fangers are producing a more toxic venom due to the stress of surviving in our deteriorating environment. The severity of your bite – and your reaction to it – might just be the proof he is looking for."

I stare in shock at Marcus as he discusses Riley's theory – the same one Riley mentioned when Tyler was being treated. "I'm sorry, Sir," I interrupt, "but are you talking about Cadet Riley, Bella's younger brother?"

"Yes, of course," he continues. "It's a very interesting theory… "

He continues to talk, but I'm no longer paying attention. How could he be familiar with Riley's theory unless he has seen him and spoken to him? Or has Marcus been in touch with Dr. Banner? The possibilities confuse me, and my mind shies away from using the word traitor.

"Edward? Edward! Did you hear me?"

I jerk my attention back to Dr. Marcus when I hear him call my name. "Oh, yes, sorry Sir. I was just surprised to hear you mention Cadet Riley's name."

He looks confused for a minute, then guilty as he realizes what he has revealed. "I've been told before that I talk too much," he sheepishly admits. "Perhaps we should get back to the rest of your examination. Lie back on the bed for me, please."

For the next few minutes, he listens to my heart and lungs; pokes and prods me in a dozen different places; then finally announces that except for some minor bruising and slight enlargement of the glands under my jaw due to lingering infection, I'm doing well – and that I can leave the hospital.

When he picks up my left hand to remove the needle, I ask him what it is, and why it is there – and he launches into a detailed explanation, using medical terms I am completely unfamiliar with. My face must look as confused as my mind is, because when he finally slows down and glances at me, he stops, shakes his head, and says, "Sorry."

"Basically, you were dehydrated, Edward; and since you weren't awake enough to drink anything, we used the needle to put fluids directly into your body. The needle also contained sensors that helped us monitor your heart rate and blood pressure." He nods towards the machines beside the bed. "That's what those numbers are on the screen."

I watch as he disconnects the tube from the needle, then gently pulls it out of my hand. There is a slight sting, but no real pain. As soon as the needle is out, the numbers on the screen disappear. Dr. Marcus swabs my hand with some kind of cleaner, then applies a small, sticky covering to the skin. "That should take care of your hand for now. You can take it off in a few hours. Any more questions?" he asks.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Two days."

Two days? I hear the words, but cannot comprehend how so much time could have gone by without me being aware of it. The last thing I remember clearly is watching Jasper drive the rover, and telling me to rest.

"Wow. I had no idea, Sir."

Marcus smiles then. "You had all of us very worried, Edward. I don't think your mother or Bella ever left this room – and we had to _make_ Alice and Jasper leave, so they could eat and sleep."

"Now," he says, stepping away from the bed, "you are officially released from my care."

He gathers the used bandages and the needle and tubing, stuffing them into a small bag as he cleans up the area.

"There is a bathroom through that door," he continues, gesturing towards a side wall. "I believe they left clean clothes for you in there. When you are finished, someone will be here to escort you to the dining room, where your family is waiting for you. You've been without real food for over three days, Edward; time to get some nourishment back into you."

"Thank you, Sir," I nod, standing.

"I'll be checking you over again tomorrow, just to make sure you are doing okay. Oh, and Edward," he adds, looking back over his shoulder as he walks towards the door. "Remember what I told you about the 'Sir' thing. We're all the same here; no officers, no military. We have an advisory council, and just one appointed leader: your mother."

The shower is wonderful. Hot water and fresh-smelling soap wash the remaining travel grime and dirt from my body and hair. I was no longer dressed in my Ranger clothes; obviously, someone had removed them, and dressed me in the long tunic type shirt I found myself wearing when I woke up. It also appears that someone has washed me a bit, because my face, arms and hands are reasonably clean. Even so, nothing feels as cleansing as a full shower, and the hot water does wonders for my sore muscles.

When I step out of the shower stall, I find underclothes, pants and a shirt waiting for me beside a stack of towels. The pants have a cord through the waist to tighten them, and the shirt pulls over my head. A pair of sandals rests on the floor. The clothes are loose and comfortable, and look very much like those Dr. Marcus and my mother were wearing.

Re-entering the room, I see a young boy of about twelve standing there. He shyly introduces himself as Jared, and tells me he will be taking me to the dining hall, where my family has already gathered. We exit through a swinging door that opens to a long corridor. The walls appear to be made from some type of a smooth, hard substance, and are painted a very pale yellow. We pass numerous other doors, but no windows. Instead, mounted and spaced along the wall, are round globes that glow, giving off enough light to see by.

Jared smiles when he catches me staring at them. "They're really weird, at first," he laughs. "Took me a while to get used to them; but it would be too dark to see without the lights."

"Too dark?"

"Yeah, most of the rooms here are underground. My sister told me it was for protection from the storms and the pollution outside."

"Your sister?"

"Yeah, she's… " he hesitates, then blushes. "You'll meet her pretty soon."

I step closer to examine one of the globes. It is warm to my touch, but not hot. It doesn't appear to have any flame inside it. "What makes it glow?"

"The teachers told us it's something called electricity. They said it was created by electrons moving in a flow… or maybe it was a flow of electrons? I don't remember," he shrugs. "All of this," he says, waving his arms around, "can be really confusing."

As we continue walking down the hallway, Jared tells me about more things that can be 'confusing' in this underground settlement. Finally, I stop him to ask how long he has lived here. He surprises me when he answers that it's only been about six months.

"But weren't you born here? Aren't you a Thaay?"

He gives me a strange look. "No," he answers. "Our city was called Korinth. That's where I was born."

Before I can ask him any more questions, we enter a spacious, open space, filled with warm sunlight. When I look up to see where it is coming from, I realize I am looking at a clear, round dome that arches over the entire area. An assortment of various-sized tables and chairs fills the center of the room. Spaced along the outer walls are several groupings of soft-looking, colorful couches and chairs. Scattered throughout the room are big pots, filled with small trees and flowering plants.

I hear the trickle of running water and turn to my left to see an large, oval-shaped, rock-lined pool of water. In the middle is a stone urn; water bubbles up from the top of it, and splashes down over the sides, dripping into the pool below. The sound is soothing and relaxing, encouraging you to linger on the small benches that are situated between more potted green plants and flowers surrounding the pool. The air is scented with the clean smell of fresh water and the sweet perfume of the flowers. It is peaceful and inviting and, I realize as I gaze around the room, I have never seen anything as appealing as this beautiful place. The contrast to the stark, utilitarian blandness of our mess hall is striking.

Someone calls my name – and when I turn to my right, I see my family seated at a large rectangular table. They all stand as I head towards them; but before I reach the table, I'm tackled by Alice… who hugs me fiercely around the waist, and buries her head in my chest. I can feel her shaking as I wrap my arms around her shoulders, and hug her in return. "Shh, Alice, it's okay. I'm okay," I whisper to her.

She pulls back – with tears on her cheeks, but a smile on her face – then she immediately loops her arm through mine, pulling me towards the table. "Come on," she urges. "We've been waiting _forever,_ and Jasper has someone he wants you to meet."

Mother and Father both greet me with a hug. My Father has always been very stoic; never showing emotions, as we have all been trained to do. But this time, he uses his arm to pull me close to him – urgently whispering how worried they have been, and how relieved he is that I am recovering. It feels strange, but somehow very comforting.

Then I am passed off to Jasper, who has been waiting beside Father. Our hug is much quicker. He slaps me on the back, and tells me I look better than the last time he saw me – just before turning to the young woman who is standing beside him.

"I want you to meet someone very special to me, Edward," he says, as he pulls her towards us. I notice she is pretty, with long, dark hair that flows down her back in shiny waves. Her eyes are bright blue, and her smile is warm and welcoming.

Jasper wraps his arm around her shoulders, smiling as he turns back to me. "When I arrived at Korinth on my mission, this beautiful woman was standing just outside the entrance gate. She told me _she_ had been waiting for me – and it was about time I finally got there. I took one look at her – and knew I had met the one _I_ had been waiting for all my life."

He laughs and places a quick kiss on her cheek. "Edward, I want you to meet my Mary Alice."

I've never seen Jasper look so happy, or be so animated. His happiness radiates around him… and we can all feel it. I suddenly remember Hunter telling me that Jasper could sense emotions and feelings; I wonder now if he can also share those emotions with people near him.

My thoughts are interrupted when Mary Alice greets me. "It's nice to finally meet you, Edward," she smiles. "I've heard so much about you from Jasper, and from your sister. This is my brother, Jared," she continues, turning to the young boy who led me to the room. "I think you've already met." Jared grins back at me.

The last person at the table is Bella, and she slowly steps forward to wrap her arms around me in a hug. I hug her back, sighing, as she snuggles closer. "I'm sorry," I whisper into her hair.

"I know," she whispers back. She steps away and smiles. "We'll talk about everything later, Edward. I promise."

The rectangular table seats eight, and we all find places and sit. Mother and Father have taken the chairs on each end; Jasper, Mary Alice, and Jared are seated across from Alice, Bella, and me. I hear a noise, and look up to see several large panels of one wall slide apart; behind them is a kitchen, with an open serving counter facing us. Bowls, plates, cups, and spoons have been arranged at one end of the counter, and a platter with fresh slices of bread, cheese and fruit has been placed next to them. I watch as a young man carries a metal pot with a ladle in it from the kitchen, setting it down beside the platter.

"The food is ready, ma'am," he tells Mother, before disappearing back into the kitchen.

"We serve ourselves here, Edward," Father says, when everyone stands and makes their way to the serving counter. "And we clean up after ourselves when we are finished, too."

The pot is full of soup, thick with vegetables and chunks of tender chicken; the broth is rich and creamy. I don't realize just how hungry I am until the first spoonful slides down my parched throat… and then I don't slow down until I'm well into my second bowl. Everyone else is finished by the time I wash down the last bite of bread and cheese with a cup of cool water. "Did you get enough?" Bella laughs, as she watches me sigh in contentment.

"I believe I did," I grin in reply. "I also feel much, much better."

"Good," says Mother, rising from her chair. "Let's clean up these dishes then."

The left-over food is stored in a small room that Jared informs me is cooled by 'that electricity stuff.' I'm excused from washing or drying the dishes because of my hand, but I'm able to assist Alice in putting them away on the appropriate shelves.

My family talks and teases and laughs together… while I watch them doing something so ordinary, so _mundane_ that it feels like a normal, everyday activity. But I know it is not.

This is not how I was raised; this is not how our society operates. If this is a Thaay settlement, then why are all my family, except Emmett, here? Why am I here? And if the Thaay are our enemies, why do I feel so comfortable in this place?

As if sensing my unease, Mother turns to me. "Edward?"

Once again, I am at a loss for words. I stutter and start, finally gesturing at our surroundings. "This," I say. "Everything. Do you realize we are all here, except Emmett? Is he coming here, or are we all going back? Can we even go back without being considered traitors? And what about Bella? You know I can't let her return to the valley and face her punishment… "

I sigh, shrugging my shoulders. "I'm really confused, Mother."

"I know, Edward. I'd thought we might wait until tomorrow when you would be feeling better, but I think it is time for that long chat I promised you… or at least a shortened version of it. Come with me," she says leading the way out of the room. " I have something to show you."

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AN: _The Protector_ was recommended on The Lemonade Stand this week! Thank you to Hadley and Six dlbfive for including my story. Your support means more to me than I have words to express. I met some wonderful people at the San Diego TFMU including Anna. This chapter is for her, because she was worried about Jasper! Welcome to all the new readers and thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing. Finally, hugs to the my amazing beta, Bellebiter. I can't thank you enough.


	18. Chapter 18

The Protector

Chapter 18

EPOV

I follow Mother down yet another corridor lined with doors and lit with more round globes; this time, however, the walls are painted a pale blue. As we walk, she explains that the room we were just in serves many functions for the community: not only is it a dining room, but it also offers an open gathering space – both for leisure, and for more formal community meetings. It is located in the center hub of the structure, and has numerous corridors leading from it – much like the spokes on a wheel. Each hallway is painted a different color to make it easier to find your destination.

"Most of the rooms in this corridor are private living quarters for families," she continues. "During the day, the adults are all busy with their assignments, and the children should all still be in classes… which is why it seems so quiet right now."

"Assignments?"

Mother stops, and turns to face me. "Everyone works here, Edward," she explains, "but it is by choice; each person can pick what they want to do. Most people are willing to do whatever needs to be done, and almost everyone has something they are trained for or know how to do well. We are lucky to have some amazing cooks – as you may have noticed," she grins – "and then everyone else helps with the clean up."

As we resume walking, she points to one of the doors. "Your Father, Alice and I live there," she states. "There is room for you, too, if you want to stay with us; but we've also set up private quarters for you, if you prefer your own space."

Linking her arm in mine as we continue down the hall, Mother tells me more about the underground structure; explaining the color-coded corridors, and what is located in each one. I smile when I realize that, at times, she sounds just like Alice. Her voice is different… happier, perhaps, or maybe more carefree. At the same time, she also sounds more self-assured, and she walks with a relaxed confidence that I haven't noticed before. When I hear her mention Jasper's name, I break my musing to focus on her conversation.

"I know this is a quick explanation, and probably confusing," she admits. "But we can get Jasper – or maybe Jared – to give you a more thorough tour tomorrow."

Her mention of Jared reminds me of his statement that he was from Korinth, and that he has only been here a few months. I wonder if all his people are here.

"Jared told me he was born in Korinth, and has lived here just a short time. That's where I found refuge when the storm hit; yet there was no one there. Are all his people here?" I ask. "Do you know why they left?"

"Most of them are here, and you'll have a chance to meet many of them," she replies. "As for the rest and their reasons… well, we'll get to that soon."

We continue on, as I consider the meaning behind her cryptic statement.

"Here we are," she says, stopping in front of a door at the end of the hallway. "This is our library, archives and study room. We located it at the end of this corridor because it is usually quiet, and – most of the time – there are fewer interruptions."

The space we enter looks very much like part of our archives room at home: there are tables and chairs arranged for reading and studying, with a few books and several casually-rolled linen scrolls – that seem like they might have been used recently – left sitting on the top of a small desk in one corner. The similarities end there, however; because, settled securely on top of several of the tables, are heavy objects that look much like the machines with the screens that were in my hospital room.

We bypass them, though, as she leads me to a far back wall. A large glass window fills most of it, and – when I look into the next room – I cannot help but gasp in amazement: row upon row of shelves fill the large space, one after another… and _all_ of them overflowing with books and scrolls.

"What is… Are these… ?" I stammer, turning towards her.

She chuckles at my reaction. "Hunter told me how much you enjoyed studying in the archives at home. So I thought you might be impressed – and more than just a little interested – to see our collection."

I'm still at a loss for words when I turn back to stare at the treasure trove waiting inside the room. "Can I… ?" I gesture towards the room.

"Of course," she answers, before opening the door leading into the room. "This room is temperature controlled, and kept at a certain humidity in order to preserve the books, papers and scrolls as much as possible; that's why the door needs to be kept closed at all times. Many of them – well, actually, _most_ of them," she laughs – "are quite old; so if you want to study one, we ask that you carefully remove it from the others, then take it into the reading room and use one of the tables in there. You can leave it on the desk when you are finished."

Mother leads me around the room, explaining the organizational method. Each shelf is labeled by topic, and arranged in chronological order: with the oldest books on the subject displayed first, then ending with the newer ones at the opposite end.

Gazing in fascination at the room, I turn first one way… then another… realizing that I could spend days in here discovering so much _more_ about this planet that I live on. But I wonder, too, if I'll have that much time. The uncertainty of my future is troubling; the questions I asked in the kitchen still linger in my mind. Is it possible to stay here permanently? Could I even consider not returning to my valley, the way Jasper appears to have done? I have to hope that Mother's explanation will be able to answer some of the fears plaguing my mind. I also know that whatever decisions I make have to include Bella – and, hopefully, Emmett. I don't think I could accept never seeing my brother again.

She must somehow sense the change in my mood, because Mother quickly suggests that we go back into the reading room, telling me we have many things we need to discuss.

She gestures for me to sit in one of the chairs, and then sits beside me, turning her body so that she is facing me. "I'm going to do my best to answer all your questions, Edward. So, at anytime – if there is something you do not understand – please stop me, and I'll try to explain. Okay?"

When I nod, she begins.

"All your life, you've had the history of our people remembered and read aloud to you. Most of what you've heard recited – over and over again, in ceremony and in private – is true; but it's not been _all_ of the truth, Edward."

She shifts slightly in her chair, leaning towards me as she continues.

"For a long time, the people of our world _did_ manage to live in harmony with each other; both with – and within – the resources of the planet. Yes, in the very distant, distant past, there had been wars, and fighting… and our species had even come close to almost dying out… until we eventually, finally learned to cooperate with each other. Once we did, though – once we understood that our survival, as individuals and as a people, depended on working together – we lived in peace for a very long time."

Mother stops; then sighs, shaking her head.

"People forget, though, Edward. Years go by, and we begin to ignore the lessons that we learned in the past. Instead of limiting the number of offspring, families gradually started getting bigger and bigger again. Medical advances meant that all people, young and old, lived a lot longer. Over time, the population steadily increased – and, as it did, additional resources were needed to support the growing number of people. More land was cleared and planted; more water was needed for crops, and to support the greater number of animals raised to feed the people. Increased crops also meant more insects and plant diseases, so scientists had to develop stronger and stronger chemicals to kill the insects and combat the diseases."

"Technological advances and new inventions made life easier in some ways; but they were also a drain on the resources of the planet. They almost seemed to encourage people to want even more, to think they could and _must_ always have new and better things each time something was invented."

Her words are a bit puzzling to me, and I make a mental note to ask her what these inventions are that she is talking about. My face must show the confusion I'm feeling, because she stops talking.

"Edward?"

I don't want her to stop now, however; so I shake my head "no," gesturing for her to continue.

"There were some people," she begins again, "who saw forward, who did try to warn everyone that things needed to change: educators, scientists, doctors; even farmers… they _all_ cautioned that what was happening could lead to disaster. But the day-to-day destruction to the environment was slow, and occurred over a long period of time – so that most people either didn't believe the warnings, or couldn't see the same signs of exhaustion, or refused to work together long enough to find alternatives. No one wanted to be told they shouldn't have more children; no one wanted to hear that they needed to live more simply, or eat less, or have fewer things. Those who did try to call us back to reason were ignored, scorned and ridiculed."

Suddenly, we're both distracted by the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside the door; but they eventually pass by to a distant echo, and she turns back to me.

"It finally reached a point where the land and the environment could not sustain the demands that were being made on it… and then everything – suddenly, and irrevocably – collapsed."

Shaking my head and swallowing thickly, I lean back in my chair, dreading the words I know she is going to say.

"It was a terrible time, Edward." She stops again, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. I can see the sadness in her eyes as she looks at me. "Diseases swept across the planet, killing millions of people and animals. The crops began to fail, one after another. Even the oceans became so polluted that the fish began to die."

"Our people have always loved and cherished their families, and parents will do anything – _anything_ , Edward – to make sure their children have the food and water they need to survive. If that means killing someone who has that food and water, then that is what they will do… and that is what they did. Neighbor killed neighbor, brother killed brother. The slaughter was devastating… and inevitable."

I watch Mother shudder, then take a couple of deep breaths before she is ready to begin again. She is clearly distressed; but when I ask if she needs to stop, she shakes her head no. "You need to hear and learn all of this, Edward; it's important."

"You were right, you know, in the hospital room – when you said you had done everything that had been asked of you, and that you deserved to know what was going on. You _did_ do everything we asked, and you did it very well."

She smilies warmly, leaning forward to press her palm on my knee for a moment before continuing.

"Hunter was so proud of you – we were all so proud – for the way you stayed focused, and for the way you applied yourself to the training that was required of you. I never doubted that you would succeed, even though I knew you were struggling with some of the situations you found yourself in."

Leaning back in her chair, she smiles again; but this time, I can see a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"Many things are going to happen in the next few days; years of planning and preparation are about to come to an end." Her face sobers, and her tone turns more serious as she continues. "You, my son, are going to play an important role in the success of those plans; and even though we are going to ask so much more of you, I know you are capable of doing everything that will be needed to help us save our people. That is why it is important for you to know the truth of what happened in the past, and how the Thaay came to be."

Once again she stops, and sighs deeply, before settling more comfortably in her chair. "Back to the history lesson."

She begins again. "The survivors gradually began to group together for protection," she explains. "They built fortified towns in places where safe water and tillable land was still available, and armed themselves to fight back against the roving bands of scavengers who tried to take whatever they could find."

"The historians all seem to think that at this point, there was a very slim chance that things could have improved if everyone had learned to cooperate. What they needed was a true leader. A person who could put the good of the people before his own wants; someone who could persuade the people that it was to their own benefit to work together to solve the problems that were facing them. A practical visionary to inspire them to see beyond the immediate present, and to a better future for their children."

I tilt my head, questioning, when she stops talking.

"Oh, they got a leader, alright," she explains, shaking her head. "But he was not the person they needed."

Mother turns her chair slightly, so that she is facing one of the machines on the table. In the middle of the top is a small, blinking red light. She places her thumb in front of it, and says, "Screen on."

When the screen turns white, Mother speaks again, "Display Avaro, photo one." An image of a man appears on the screen. His skin is pale, his hair a rusty-brown; but it is his eyes that draw my attention: they are a startling emerald green. Large and luminous, with a slight upward tilt at the outside corner, they stare out of the screen, daring me to look away. Even though I know this is only a picture of someone who lived and died long before me, I am mesmerized… and find myself leaning forward, as if drawn to him.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Mother says softly. "All these generations later, and he still affects us."

Her voice startles me out of my staring and I turn towards her, looking for an explanation.

"His name was Avaro."

His image draws my attention again, as I study the features that seem oddly familiar.

"We don't know that much about his early life. He was orphaned at a very young age, and landed in one of the small settlements that sprang up after the upheavals were over. Unloved… and probably ignored much of the time, his life must have been hard… especially when even the meanest survival meant daily, back-breaking work. He would have grown up working in the fields, and helping defend his village from the occasional attack."

"It was during one of those attacks that he took command of the settlement defense by sudden necessity, when the officer in charge was killed right in front of him. Somehow, he managed to rally his fighters – and they defeated their attackers, who had outnumbered them by almost two-to-one. Avaro was hailed as a hero by his village."

"The next day, he led them to the town that had attacked them, and – sparing only the children and young, unmarried women – they slaughtered every person who lived there. He sent half the people to the newly defeated village, gave the young women to his soldiers as rewards for their service, and put the children in work camps – where the boys were trained as soldiers, and the girls were trained to work until they were old enough to be given as rewards to his loyal followers."

Listening to the description of Avaro's ruthless brutality, his blatant disregard for life, his arrogant abuse of authority, and his total lack of a warrior's honor… sickens me to my very core. Images of what he did flicker through my mind, and I shudder in disgust. All my life, I've trained with weapons, studied strategies, and prepared myself for the possibility that I might have to fight an enemy who would try to invade my homeland; but except for a few Fangers and Yippers that attacked us first, I've never purposely killed any living thing – and especially not another human being. I swallow audibly as Mother continues.

"This strategy proved to be so successful that he repeated it – over, and over, and over – until he controlled all the land, and all the people around him for hundreds of miles."

Mother speaks to the screen again, and instructs it to advance through more photos. I watch as Avaro poses with his officers, smiles with his arms around young women, and instructs young boys training with a variety of different weapons. There are images of bigger and fancier homes, of more elaborate uniforms and weapons, of banquet tables overflowing with food and drink.

Finally, she stops it and turns back to me.

"He was an extremely gifted leader, strategist and administrator. A true genius; he seemed to be able to convince people to follow him and do what he wanted, even when it was against their best interests. Experts who have studied his life think he may have been one of the first to show signs of the mutations that cause the special abilities that you, Jasper and others have had. We do know that the pollution, which was still gradually destroying the environment, was already causing some mutations to appear. Most of them were in the physical appearance of animals and people; but it is entirely possible that the mental changes were happening, too."

The sound of my sharp intake of air causes her to stop talking. "Edward?"

"Mutation? Are you saying my shield is a mutation, that there is something wrong with me?"

"Oh, dear!" Mother's eyes widen, and she shakes her head, despondently. "I'm very sorry, Edward; I'm explaining this poorly. A mutation is simply a change in a living thing that is different from the norm. We all have mutations, in some form or another. Your shield, your mental abilities are changes – but there is nothing wrong with that! In fact, I hope you think of them as gifts, because they make you unique… and very special. Avaro used his gift to change his world for the worse. You, my dear son, are going to use your gift to change our world for the better."

She watches me carefully as I slowly relax, nodding for her to continue.

"Eventually, Avaro began to run into opposition to his plans for conquest. Towns and cities began to align themselves against him, and some of his own people began to criticize his methods. But it's what he did next that proved his twisted genius: he realized that the best way to unite the many groups under his control was to give them a common enemy – and that the most believable enemy was someone who was different from them in some way; someone whose difference had the power or means to cause them harm. It didn't matter if it were fact or not; what mattered was the perceived truth. He discovered he could take a half-truth, and – by embellishing it in repeating it over and over – people would begin to believe that it was real."

"Until then, we'd always thought of ourselves as one people. We'd had our own differences, of course; we had fought and killed each other, too. But we were still – basically, undeniably – the same. He changed all that."

Her eyes glaze over for a moment, and I wonder what she is thinking about or remembering; but before I can ask, she speaks again.

"He focused on the groups that criticized him the most – the scientists and the educators. In speech after speech, he blamed them for the deterioration in the environment. _They_ were the ones who had caused the diseases. _They_ were the ones who had made the crops fail. _They_ were the ones who had poisoned the ocean. And _they_ were the ones who were going to use their power to take your food, your possessions and your family away. Avaro made it abundantly clear in his rhetoric that he was the only one that could save the people from the faceless, nameless, but all-powerful _Thaay."_

After she stops talking, I try to get my thoughts together to ask the questions I need to clarify everything she has just told me; to somehow make sense of all the information that is cluttering my mind. After shifting uncomfortably for a moment, I finally look at Mother and ask.

"The Thaay were never real. This was just a made-up name that Avaro used to unite people against a common enemy?"

"Yes."

"So the Thaay are not some type of monster… or half-human being… or any of the other scary creatures we used to frighten each other with, when we were growing up?"

Laughing softly, she shakes her head no. "It was never them or us, Edward. We were always just one people. We may look slightly different on the outside, but inside we are all the same. We have the same hopes and dreams; we feel the same joy and sadness. We are born and we die, we love and we hate… but we are one people."

Scooting forward in her chair, Mother takes both my hands in hers. Her face is serious, but her eyes are soft and full of love.

"There were never any _they_ , Edward. There was always only _us_."

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AN: This was a tough chapter to write. I hope it answered some of the questions you may have had. Many thanks to Bellebiter, who supported and encouraged me through four edits! I couldn't have done it without her. Thanks to all my loyal readers and welcome to all the new ones. Your reviews make me smile.


	19. Chapter 19

The Protector

Chapter 19

EPOV

Mother's explanation of the Thaay has left me strangely relieved.

It's only after I hear it spoken aloud that I slowly realize I have silently worried for years that my unusual abilities meant I was somehow abnormal; that I was different, other; a mutated freak of nature that shouldn't exist. Every day, our training emphasized cooperation, teamwork, and the group rather than the individual; but it didn't matter how much I participated, or how much I believed in what I was told – I always felt isolated from my cohort, as if I didn't quite fit in. Even as a young cadet, I knew that it was not normal to be able to reach out with my mental awareness and 'feel' other people.

Sometimes the connection was so strong, I felt I could almost read their thoughts. This always left me feeling guilty and conflicted, as if I were somehow invading their minds and forcing my will upon them.

Worse yet, I had wondered if I might be a potential threat to my people. Would my 'feelings' somehow make me a traitor? Would they draw the attention of our enemy, The Thaay? Would my home be destroyed because I would fail to be the kind of Protector I was training to be? My young mind conjured all sorts of horrible scenarios that I was somehow responsible for – all because I was not normal.

Then, as a tener, when I had tried to warn the trainer about the Fanger under the rock he was about to sit on, I had been severely rebuked – because, he spat out, only Thaays could 'feel' things. His words served to fuel my fears – so much so that I had completely stopped using my abilities for years; suppressing any urge to utilize them, and frightened that I was some sort of deviant half-person. I only began to employ them again, quietly, when we started leaving the valley for scouting missions. By then, I had realized that they could be helpful for our safety; but I still avoided using them inside the valley, where – I was afraid – they might be noticed or discovered more easily.

Hunter had forced my hand that day with his whip. Self-preservation is a powerful motivator; and it was only the imminent threat of the danger to my face that had pushed me to open my mind and discover the power – that had been waiting there, dormant, all along – to form my shield.

It never entered my mind to use it as a weapon against someone or for my own personal gain – although I now understand, after learning about Avaro, how my abilities might make me very powerful indeed. But my duty has always been to protect my people, not control them. The only time I was prepared to go against my training had been to spare Bella from her punishment for treason – and that was only because I knew something was not right about the circumstances surrounding her trial or her sentence.

The doubts I've had over the last few months about the Thaay don't seem so traitorous now. I still don't understand how one man could have had so much power over so many people; yet even as that thought enters my mind, I know that I am not that different from those who blindly followed Avaro. I've been trained to follow orders, too, and to believe everything that I've been told.

My face must reflect some of the confusion I feel, because Mother quietly speaks to the screen again, and an image of Avaro appears. This time, though, the picture moves… and there is sound. "Maybe this will help you understand his appeal to the people," she explains.

He is standing on a stage, with thousands of people below and in front of him. I watch and listen as he speaks to the crowd, warning them of the dangers of the Thaay. His voice is deep and harmonious; his body movements hypnotic. I am, once again, mesmerized by him… and can understand the enthralled crowd's obvious fascination. I'm almost convinced, as I listen to him, that he should – and will – save them from the Thaay.

 _"_ He said it so many times, people began to believe him." Her voice interrupts my staring at the screen, and I turn my focus back to her. "Everyone wanted a strong leader – someone to restore their peace and prosperity, someone to trust. It was convenient to have a person or a group to blame for their problems, and so 'The Thaay' were born. Anyone who disagreed with Avaro – anyone who questioned his motives, anyone who was different – was labeled as 'other,' and immediately became part of the evil Thaay."

Shaking her head, ruefully, Mother gestures towards the screen again.

"The strategy worked perfectly. The population rallied around him, and he was quickly granted unlimited power to protect them from their enemies. He seized that power… and then he never let it go. Private property no longer existed; everything belonged to the empire and to Avaro, who was the only one deemed capable of making the right decisions to defend the people from 'The Thaay.' Young women of child-bearing age were placed in compounds to protect them; boys entered military training at the age of eight to become soldiers. Men too old to fight, women too old to have children, and girls too young to be given as wives were all assigned to work divisions, so they could produce the food and supplies that were needed to defeat 'The Thaay.'"

We watch for a few more minutes while Avaro exhorts his people to believe in him. The crowd cheers each time he promises death to the Thaay, and chants his name over and over when he finishes.

"He built a juggernaut of military power," Mother explains, "that was supported by an organized and dedicated civilian population. Nothing could stop him; no one could hope to defend themselves against him. Cities, towns, settlements alike… they either willingly accepted his rule, or faced certain slaughter. It took years, of course; but eventually, he – and his son, who followed him – ruled their entire landmass. The only thing that stopped them was the ocean."

Turning back to the screen, she pauses the images of Avaro's speech before continuing.

"The scientists and educators that he persecuted understood what was happening; they began searching for a safe place to escape with their families. A space station, Aether, had been built many years before, when the advances in technology made air and space travel routine. There were still people living there; and, gradually, the wiser renegades began quietly moving smaller groups of families from the surface of the planet to the station. When it eventually became almost too crowded itself, they moved the newcomers into the largest of the ships that were docked there."

Mother touches the screen once more, and the next picture that appears looks like a collection of large metal buildings. Instead of sitting on the ground, however, they seem to be suspended in front of a black sky. "This is the space station, Edward."

She points out different parts of it, explaining what they are and how they are used. I hear the words _control center_ and _living quarters_ , _food pods_ and _maintenance modules._ Attached to the perimeter of the station are large metal shapes she calls _space ships –_ which, she tells me, can move on their own, through the air. The smaller ships are _shuttles,_ and can be used to ferry items between the station and the ground. These are what were used to move the people from the planet to the station.

"They had to be very careful, of course, not to raise Avaro's – or any of his officers' – suspicions," she continues. "A few people at a time would slip away to a remote rendezvous point; usually located in the nearest mountains, or perhaps in the middle of a desert or forest. A small shuttle would silently meet them in the night, then quickly steal back into the upper atmosphere and away, to transport them to the station. There was, apparently, a secret underground organization that operated for years to help people escape."

Listening to Mother as she describes the actions of people desperate to flee from Avaro and his regime, I can't help but admire their bravery. They left everything they knew – even risked their very lives – to start over in an unfamiliar place where they had a chance to build a new society and a new life for their families. I can't help but wonder if I could be that brave.

"Over time, as more people left the planet and the population on the station and ships increased, it became obvious that additional living space and food production facilities were needed. The underground installation where we are now was once the hub for the planet's space travel. It was located on an island – surrounded by thousands of miles of ocean, and on the opposite side of the planet from Avaro's empire – which made it the perfect location to establish another place for people to live."

"It was also fairly close to the much larger island where our home valley is now located. So – as ice cover began to melt from the plateau surrounding Olympus, and the valleys became livable – more of the descendants of the original scientists and educators who escaped Avaro were able to move into six of those valleys. They became Korinth, Dellfi, Argoess… and the other cities that Hunter showed you on the map."

A quiet knock interrupts Mother's explanation. Jared peeks hesitantly into the room after she tells him to enter. "Doctor Marcus says Edward needs to eat and drink again, Ma'am," he says, indicating the tray he is holding. When she nods, he places it on a side table before leaving quietly.

"You do look tired, Edward. Do we need to stop and finish this tomorrow?"

Although I am beginning to feel hungry and exhausted, there is no way I want to stop now; I still have too many questions I want answered before our discussion is over. When I tell her this – my voice rising in frustration at the thought of stopping – she gently suggests I eat and drink something from the tray Jared has brought, assuring me that I can then ask my questions and we can finish our talk.

The tray holds a pitcher of sweet, cold apple juice and a plate of fresh-baked bread. I am much thirstier than I thought, and quickly down most of the pitcher after pouring a cup for Mother. Two pieces of the warm bread vanish before I even realize I am eating.

As I slowly chew the third piece, my mind wanders to Jasper and how he might have reacted to the information she is sharing with me. "Mother… " My sudden inquiry startles her, and she looks at me expectantly.

"Yes… "

"Jasper knows everything you've been telling me, right?"

"Yes, of course," she answers. "Why do you ask?"

"How… how did he react to all this information?"

"Ahh, Jasper," she laughs. "Jasper's gift is so different than yours, Edward. Not only can he influence emotions, but he also seems to be able to sense when someone is not telling the truth – or when they are telling only _part_ of the truth. He was still a young cadet when he started questioning many of the things he was hearing or being taught; and it was particularly confusing to his additional sensibilities when the histories were read or recited, because he _heard_ there was something wrong with them. Finally, he opened up to me about what was happening… and your Father and I helped him learn to deal with the dissonance his talent sometimes brought to light. As he got older, he was able to control, understand, and use it more effectively."

"He never suppressed his gift – at least, not the way you felt you had to after that trainer punished you," she grimaces. Her expression makes it clear what she would like to do to the trainer. "So when we finally shared the full story of our history, he accepted and understood without too much explanation."

Grinning, she adds, "He was a bit easier to convince than you have been."

"And Emmett," I ask, rolling my eyes at her teasing. "How much does he know?"

"We've never shared anything with Emmett, yet; but we'll have to, soon. I'm not so sure how that easy that conversation will be."

"I think he is beginning to have some very strong doubts."

Mother studies me intently before asking. "What makes you think that?"

"Bella's trial, and his reaction afterwards."

"Ahh, yes," she nods.

"And he's having headaches."

She's quiet for a few more moments, considering what I've just said, before asking me if I'm feeling better and if I've eaten enough. When I tell her I have, she encourages me to ask my questions so we can get started again.

Even with all I have learned today, I know there is still something that doesn't feel quite right… something that she has not told me. Something that I still need to understand.

Mother waits patiently while I try to gather my thoughts, and I look up to find her staring at me. "Ask, Edward," she encourages."You know what you need to ask."

My mind replays everything she has told me, everything she has explained. I analyze her words, fitting details together, looking for causes and effects.

And then I know what I have missed, and what she has not told me yet.

Turning back to her, I ask if she can show me a map of the island where our valley is located. Mother instructs the machine to show a photo of the Olympus plateau. When it is displayed on the screen, I study it intently. It is just like the map Hunter showed me: six valleys scattered across the landmass, with the seventh located in the center. Seven valleys – and all of them inhabited by people, at one time or another.

"You said the descendants of the scientists and educators who escaped Avaro settled six of the valleys… but there are _seven_ inhabited valleys, Mother. Our people settled the seventh valley, the only one with any remaining snowpack. So where did we come from? Who are we?"

My Mother answers me with a proud but sad smile. "You never disappoint me, Edward."

Reaching out, she touches a few words on the screen. The next image that appears is a photo of a woman. Her light red hair is coiled on the top of her head, with soft wisps of curls surrounding a face that is very pale; but it is her eyes that I focus on. I realize, with a start, that they are the same mesmerizing green as Avaro's eyes. Hers, however, are filled with a soul-weary sadness.

Yet there is something else again about her that also feels… _familiar._ One glance at my mother confirms my suspicions: except for a slight difference in their coloring and age, they could be twins.

Mother says nothing as I glance back and forth between the photo on the machine and her face, visually comparing the two of them. Their eyes have the same upward tilt; their lips the same pronounced bow. They each have a single dimple in their right cheek, next to the same small, delicate nose.

A feeling of foreboding fills me. I know what this means.

But I don't want to ask. I don't _want_ to have my suspicions confirmed. Suddenly, I'm very homesick for my cadet barracks – and for the simple cot-bed that I once slept in. Surrounded by my age cohort, I was safe in my innocence… almost protected in my uniformed, uninformed state.

Taking a deep breath, I finally manage to mumble, "Who… who is she?"

Mother is slow to answer; as if she, too, regrets repeating the truth we know is coming.

"Her name was Elizabeth," she replies. "She was the founder of our house and lineage, and… she was the granddaughter of Avaro."

Her words. Spoken aloud they become real, become a truth that must be faced. I cannot ignore them; cannot hide from them in my wished-for innocence. With all their meanings, with all their spoken and unspoken… _connotations,_ her words change my world forever.

"But… " I stutter as my heart races, and I try to express my jumbled thoughts. "But that means… then it is certain, that we _are_ … that we are descended from Avaro."

"Yes, Edward," she nods her head regretfully. "He was your ancestor – your grandfather – many generations ago."

Her words render me speechless.

Although I understand what she has just admitted to me, I can't seem to wrap my mind around the fact that I am… that my family is… that perhaps _everyone I know_ … is descended from a tyrant.

A tyrant, who killed thousands of people and helped destroy our planet.

A selfish despot, whose lust for power forced thousands to live in misery.

A bully, whose gift could have been used to save his people – but instead, was twisted to manipulate their will.

A man, who lived so long ago that his name has been forgotten by most of his descendants – but whose blood still flows through my veins.

Perhaps my fears about myself were not so wrong after all.

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AN: I want to thank Melanie Moreland (Edward's Eternal) for recommending The Protector on her Facebook page. The response was amazing! Thank you so much. And, as always, thank you to my beta, Bellebiter, for her gentle prodding that pushes me to exceed my self expectations.


	20. Chapter 20

The Protector

Chapter 20

EPOV

"Edward? Edward!" Mother's voice is loud, and her grip on my bicep firm where she is shaking me to get my attention.

"What… ?"

"Don't do that… don't you dare do that!" Her scolding voice interrupts my thoughts as I gaze at her in confusion. "I know what you're thinking; I can see it in your face. You're sitting there comparing yourself to that man; wondering if you are like him, wondering if your abilities could turn you into a greedy, power-hungry tyrant. But you are not him, Edward! You are not Avaro!"

She turns then to the screen, pointing at the image of Elizabeth. "Look at her," she commands. " _This_ is who you are. _This_ is the person who started your house and your lineage, not Avaro – and certainly not his son, Avarus."

"You are like her, Edward," she continues, her voice softening as she gazes at me. "Caring and loyal – and, most of all, selfless. Elizabeth saved her family and her people; she used her abilities, her gifts, to break free from her father's rule and find a new home, a new beginning. Just like you will, Edward. You, too, will save your family and your people. Your abilities will help us find a new home and make a new start again."

I can only stare at her when she finishes talking. I'm afraid to ask just what it is she expects of me. I have no idea how I will save my people; but I do know that some of the answers rest with the woman whose image was captured many generations ago… and who now stares out at me from the screen of this machine. A woman whose story I need to understand.

"How?" I ask, finally finding my voice. "How did she go from being Avaro's granddaughter… to founding our lineage, and living in our valley?"

Standing, Mother stretches her back and rolls her shoulders, before helping herself to another cup of juice. "It's not a pretty story, Edward," she warns, turning back to me. "Elizabeth's life was not easy; but it did have a happy ending, eventually."

She takes her seat again, before continuing.

"By the time Elizabeth's father, Avarus, came to power, life for the ordinary people had deteriorated rapidly – and especially for the women. Those compounds – meant to protect them from the Thaay – had become little more than glorified prisons. Both Avaro and his son found it politically and militarily advantageous to propagate the idea that a woman's main purpose in life was to marry and bear children, one after another… until they either died, or became too old, and were sent to work camps."

"Elizabeth grew up in one of Avarus' compounds, where he kept his wives. She watched her mother die; her body worn and exhausted from repeated childbirth. She watched her sisters used as pawns in her father's political and military power games, and she watched her brothers marched off to perish in battle after battle."

I listen as Mother relates the horrifying details of not only Elizabeth's life, but those of her siblings as well. Father's reminder from Oath Night that "a Protector may invite; but it is always the woman's decision to continue" replays in my mind. None of these women were ever given a choice.

"Her life wasn't much different than her siblings," she explains, "except that she was extremely intelligent, and considered very beautiful. Awarded as a prize to one of the older officers for a victorious campaign, she endured an arranged marriage for years, until he finally perished during battle. She had her first child at seventeen; a boy, who, eight years later, was taken from her to be trained as a soldier. By then, she had already given birth two more times, to daughters; but it was the devastating loss of her son – killed at sixteen, in his very first battle – that seemed to suddenly trigger the gifts she had suppressed all her life."

Mother's voice softens as she turns back to study Elizabeth's image on the screen. "She was probably the most gifted person ever born on this planet. Not only did she have Avaro's ability to be a persuasive leader; but she could also manipulate emotions, sense lies, and make people and animals fall asleep, just like Jasper can. In addition, she had a shield like yours, Edward, and the ability to suspend time."

"Wow." I can't help the reaction that escapes me when I consider how powerful her gifts would have made her. From a military standpoint, she would have been a formidable opponent. The fact that she was able to conceal her abilities from her father, and therefore prevent him from exploiting her gifts, makes her all the more remarkable.

"Yes,' Mother agrees. "Fortunately, she was also determined and tenacious. Disgusted with her father's totalitarian regime and its lack of regard for individual freedom and choice, she vowed to find a way to escape – and to somehow forge a new way of life, for herself and her family. The opportunity eventually came by chance one day, when she and several other women were serving food and drink during a meeting between Avarus and his top officers."

"After conquering the entire landmass, Avaro had been content to solidify his control over the population, and to enjoy the luxury and benefits power had brought to him. He was aware that some people had escaped into space, and that some were living on the small islands at the other side of the planet; but he didn't consider them worth the effort or risk of finding a way across the ocean to attack them."

"Avarus had other ideas, though. He considered them a threat – and, worse for his pride, a personal affront to his power, because they were not under his control. So the meeting that day was to discuss and plan ways to instigate an attack against the Thaay – both on an island stronghold located across the ocean, and in the space station above the planet."

"I don't understand," I interrupt, frowning at her words. "How could they launch an attack across miles of water – or miles above the planet? How could they move enough men and weapons to be successful?"

"It wasn't to be that kind of an attack, Edward," Mother explains. "For years, Avaro – and then Avarus – had been working to restore a technologically advanced weapon, found left behind from the time before the upheavals. Rumor said that the weapon could be sent through the air, to destroy anything it targeted; it was this device that Avarus and his officers were planning to use in their attack."

"There is no honor in that type of battle," I react, shaking my head in disgust.

"There is rarely honor in killing, Edward," Mother responds. "Defending yourself, your family, and your home; yes, there is honor there. But war is rarely about defending. War is the failure of reasonable people to find a reasonable solution to problems that affect them all."

We stare at each other for a few moments, while I consider her words. Finally, I nod, and she continues with the story.

"None of the men paid any attention to the servers; they were, after all, just women. But the moment Elizabeth heard and understood the scope of their plans, she knew that she had to do something to stop the destruction they were planning. She had – very carefully, and over a number of years – built an underground network of trustworthy, like-minded people; all of whom were related to her in some way, and who had some of the same gifts she possessed. True, it was mainly women; but there were a few kindred men, as well, who had also rejected the oppression of Avaro's military regime."

"That same, secret group who had helped the original dissidents leave the planet was still operating. By this time, not as many people were leaving, of course; but there were still those who wanted to escape the tyranny that controlled their lives. A soldier sent to recuperate in a field hospital would never arrive, and would then be assumed lost; a teenage girl delivering supplies would go missing, leaving behind only bloody clothing and scattered, half-eaten food, as evidence of a wild animal attack; a handful of children, taking a swim in a river to cool off after working all day in the fields, would never be found… and eventually thought drowned."

"The group was smart, effective, and never did anything major that would draw attention to themselves. One or two people here, a few more somewhere else… and all through disappearances that could easily be explained as natural accidents. This was the group that Elizabeth was able to make contact with – and then, finally, approach a representative of the people who were living in this settlement."

Mother turns off the screen then, settling more comfortably in her chair, before she turns back to me.

"His name was Ares; and after hearing Elizabeth's story about the weapon, they worked out an agreement – a trade, so to speak. It took some time for him and the rest of the people living here to trust her. They knew who she was, of course, and they were wary of her motives; but after a series of guarded communications and negotiations when they could safely manage it, Ares became convinced she was telling the truth. After he argued persuasively in favor of cooperating with her, the rest of the population voted to support their agreement, too."

"In exchange for Elizabeth sabotaging the weapon, Ares would transport all her group – with their children, and a few of the men they could trust – to the empty valley at the center of the Olympus plateau. Scientists and agriculturalists would supply them with all the most suitable animals, seeds, and the practical training needed to establish a sustainable new life there."

"Late one night, following one of Avarus' drunken parties, Elizabeth spread her shield over the main house – covering most of his compound."

Hearing the word shield, I lean in closer to Mother, hoping to learn more from Elizabeth's example about the tactical uses of my gift.

"Moment by moment, she slowly managed to suspended time inside the invisible cocoon she'd erected; and then… gradually, imperceptibly… she pushed everyone inside it into a deep sleep. While she held the shield, her group – consciously protected from the subtle force of her powers – slipped silently through the building's halls and chambers… eventually emerging from the compound to meet again, before rendezvousing with Ares."

"He and another man – a member of that secret, dissident group who had helped arrange their escape – were waiting a short distance away, beside two manned and prepared air shuttles. Cloaked in the cover of darkness, Ares and his helper quickly loaded all the men, women and children into the larger shuttle, securely latched the outer door themselves, and then – after giving the all clear signal – joined Elizabeth to back safely away from the craft before it lifted, tilted slightly, and then sped off through the night towards the valley."

"His mission accomplished, Ares' contact immediately left to return to his group – who had also made plans to finally escape the regime that night, fearing the retribution that might follow from the destruction of the weapon."

"When they were safely gone, Elizabeth felt as though she could at last drop her shield; and, with the compound inhabitants still in a deep sleep, she and Ares boarded the smaller craft. Stealthily they made their way through the darkness to the mountain stronghold – where the weapon itself was hidden in an underground bunker, accessible only through an entrance near the top of a remote hillside."

Mother stops talking to take another sip of juice. "It's quite the adventure, isn't it? she asks, smiling when I nod my head in agreement, eager for her to continue. Finished with her drink, she sets the cup down and continues the story.

"Later, after everything was over, Ares wrote an detailed account describing their mission to sabotage the weapon; he said it was the most frightening thing he had ever done. We have a copy on the shelf," Mother says, gesturing towards the enclosed room. "It's interesting reading… especially his descriptions of their disagreements over using her abilities – which he had never witnessed, and, therefore, refused to believe existed. This lasted until she finally just trapped him inside her shield – and then refused, in turn, to release him from it – until he acknowledged and apologized, that is"

An amused smile fills her face as she continues to describe their interactions. "Apparently, Ares thought she was a 'mutated oddity' – and she called him 'an overeducated simpleton' – before they finally found a way to work together. I suspect they were already having feelings for each other then, of course; but were both too stubborn to admit to the attraction."

Turning back to me, she resumes. "Elizabeth had to use all her gifts – and Ares, all his technical knowledge – to finally gain access, without being caught or discovered, to the heavily guarded chamber where the weapon was located. Upon Ares' close examination, it proved to be some type of explosive device, attached to a small flying machine, that could be remotely controlled. There was also a timing mechanism, which appeared to be designed for automatically detonated the device after a preset amount of time."

"The two of them managed to reset the coordinates on the machine before launching it into the air, now aimed over the middle of the landmass. The timer had been set for two hours; plenty of time, they thought, to get back to the shuttle and away, before the device exploded. They believed they were just destroying a weapon, before it could be used against them, or anyone else; but no one had any idea how powerful it really was."

Mother pauses in her story, shaking her head. "We don't have any first-hand accounts left – if they ever existed – of what actually happened _during_ the explosion. But as far as we can discern now, probably no one in the area directly underneath its arc could have survived the initial blast – or the destruction that occurred afterwards. Meanwhile, the people on Aether were closely monitoring the planet's surface, and were shocked at what they saw."

"When it blew up, the explosion was so enormous that it set off earthquakes across the entire landmass. Mountains crumbled from the shaking; rivers and lakes simply disappeared, as huge chasms split the ground beneath them, swallowing them whole. The heat from the flash most likely incinerated everything for hundreds of miles; we know it literally burned the ground itself, and left the soil a blackened sheet of lifeless slag."

"The force wave from the explosion caught Ares and Elizabeth in midair. When they figured out what was happening, she was able to wrap her shield around the shuttle, and keep it from disintegrating – but not before they themselves were both severely injured, as the vehicle was tossed violently about in the turbulence… finally crashing on the edge of the plateau."

"The craft contained a small medical kit, with only minimal supplies. Elizabeth regained consciousness first, and hurriedly used the meager contents to treat herself, in order to restore some of her strength by the time Ares finally awoke."

"You can imagine what he must have thought," she smiles. "In his journal, he admits that he was outraged she was ignoring his injuries – and, evidently, only trying to save herself. But he had sorely misjudged Elizabeth. With the little strength she had left, she carefully wrapped him in her shield – suspending him in time, and holding him securely in place – until they could eventually be found and rescued."

"During their long recuperation, the two of them gradually got to know each other. Ares was shocked – and increasingly, _infuriated –_ to learn of the outrageous conditions under which Elizabeth, and almost every women in her former homeland, had been forced to live. She, in turn, learned to accept that technology and education – as described and explained, with practical examples from Ares – could be genuinely beneficial for everyone… when implemented in the right way, for the right reasons. So: just as their bodies worked to heal from injury, they both had to work to put aside their inherent distrust and misconceptions; but after Ares finally conceded that she was not a freak of nature – and Elizabeth reluctantly acknowledged that he was not an over-educated, pompous ass – they both realized they were beginning to have feelings for each other."

"In the months that followed, the two worked closely together – along with the experts from the station and this settlement – to forge that new life that Elizabeth had promised to find for herself and her family. The central city was carefully designed and laid out; the irrigation system planned; and the fields and orchards started. Combining their individual strengths made them a formidable team; and the two slowly, naturally became the unofficial leaders of the new community. When recognizing and confessing their reluctant growing love for each other seemed like the inevitable thing to do, the somewhat surprised, but very delighted couple soon married."

"By all accounts, the marriage – which united a uniquely gifted daughter of Avaro's empire with the technically educated son of the feared Thaays – was a genuinely happy one. After a year or so, they had a daughter they named Eleni – the first of many women in our lineage who have carried that name. But the strain of maintaining the shield during and after their escape had severely weakened Elizabeth's heart, and she never fully recovered from the birth of their child. Sadly, she passed away a few years later… surrounded by her daughters, the members of her extended family whom she had helped escape, and gently held in the arms of Ares – the only man she had ever, truly, loved."

Mother pauses her story-telling, sighing deeply and shifting in her chair to get more comfortable. "Almost finished," she smiles.

"Although grief-stricken, Ares was determined to finish the work they had begun. He insisted that the scientists honor their agreement with Elizabeth; and together, they – working with the members of the group that had escaped with her – completed transforming the valley into a haven for the refugees. Just like the histories tell us, they taught her descendants how to care for themselves; how to be good stewards of the animals, and of the land."

"Ares stayed in the valley with the people, a respected and revered leader; he lived long enough to see his grandchildren born into a world of peace and hope. Then – when he was an old man, and knew his end was coming soon, he left one morning – just as the histories say he did. He walked out the door in the wall, disappearing into the Wastelands… and they saw him no more."

Silence fills the room, as we are both lost in our thoughts of Elizabeth and Ares, our ancestors from so long ago. The weight of all Mother's words – coupled with the afternoon's revelations – is heavy on my mind; I'm both physically, and mentally, exhausted.

Yet there is one last thing I don't understand; one more thing I have to piece together.

"Mother… ?" I ask tentatively, as we both stand and turn towards the door to leave.

"Edward, it's getting late; we should stop for awhile now, and go to dinner."

"I know, Mother. But I also have to know… I _need_ to know. If our people understood the Thaay weren't real… if we didn't really have to protect ourselves from them, or from other threats… then why did we shut ourselves off from the other cities? Why did Ares have us build the wall? Why did we train as Protectors all our lives?"

Mother's eyes have that same soul-weary sadness that I saw in Elizabeth's as she studies my face. She reaches out her hand, slowly brushing the hair back from my forehead. "Oh, Edward," she sighs. "It was all part of the agreement that Elizabeth made with Ares' people. They were afraid – afraid of us; afraid of our gifts. They were fearful of what could happen if someone like our ancestor Avaro took control of our valley. So they made our people swear that they would always put the good of others before their own personal gain."

"The Protector program was put into place to ensure that our young men would be trained to give up all greed, all personal avarice. The mutations inherited from Avaro – and the abilities that accompany it – have the possibility to make someone very powerful. That power can be used to bring great good… or something else. Avaro – and his son, Avarus – let their abilities twist them into selfish tyrants who destroyed the lives of thousands for their own personal gain. By training our sons to value the importance of the community over their own individual desires, we guaranteed that they would give up their lives, if need be, to prevent a selfish tyrant from ever wresting power from the people again."

The words of the Oath I swore replay in my head as I listen to Mother's explanation. I had promised, with my blood, to serve and protect the people. I had sworn to give up all selfishness, and to place their needs before my own. All my life, my training had channeled me in that one direction – to be a protector of the people. My visceral reaction to Avaro and his abuses had proven just how deep that instruction had taken hold.

"Edward… ?" Mother's voice interrupts my thoughts. She is watching me closely when I turn my attention back to her.

"The wall, Edward," she continues. "You need to know that the wall wasn't built to keep the Thaay… or the Yippers… or any of the other dangers of our world… _out_."

Taking my hands, she holds them securely in hers.

"The wall… ? The wall was built to keep us… _in_."

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AN: Poor Bellebiter had to spend so much time on this chapter, she should be listed as co-author. My heartfelt thanks for her endless patience and superior punctuation skills, because mine are abysmal. I hope this chapter answers some of those questions you've been patiently awaiting. As always, thanks for reading!


	21. Chapter 21

The Protector

Chapter 21

EPOV

Dinner that evening was… tiring.

Physically and mentally exhausted from the afternoon's conversation with Mother, I was, at the end of our conversation, just sitting there – raw and drained. Too many revelations, too many startling surprises… and far too many secrets laid bare for me to absorb and understand, in so short a time.

I also knew there were more things I had not been told; even more details I had not yet grasped.

And, to tell the truth, my own reactions to the history Mother had shared were almost as bewildering to me as the things she had revealed.

Of course, I was at once relieved that I finally knew the real story behind the Thaay, the founding of our valley, and the Protector program.

But, at the same time, I was also angry. So angry that I could feel myself almost _seething_ with it.

Angry that I felt as though my whole life had been a lie – a manipulation to fulfill a bargain made long ago by people I had only learned about today.

Angry that I felt as though I was still being controlled and pushed in a direction that I didn't understand – all because of the many details that no one had yet bothered to share with me.

And, finally, I was also angry at myself.

My logical mind acknowledged the genius of the Protector program. I understood the danger I could have posed – or someone like me could have been – if, while growing up, I had realized my abilities to assert my will over other people; if I had not had the training to control those desires. Thus, my frustration with myself over my anger at feeling used – all the while comprehending, full well, the _how_ and the _why_ it had been done. The military-trained part of me accepted the necessity; the personal part of me felt manipulated, kept in the dark… and a slow-burning, humiliating shame at being betrayed.

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The dining room had been full of people, humming with the low din of conversation, when Mother and I entered; but as soon as we were spotted, the room suddenly quieted. It was apparent that everyone knew who I was. But I did not know them; and, for the first time in my life, I was surrounded by a roomful of strangers. It was an uncomfortable and disconcerting feeling.

My family sat at the same table we had used for the afternoon meal. It was located along one edge of the large room, part of the general grouping of tables; yet, at the same time, still slightly separated from the rest. It accurately reflected my feelings about being here.

We were part of this group – or, at least, my Mother and Father and siblings seemed to be; but we were also the outsiders, the strangers. I wondered what the people here thought about us, what name had been used to refer to our valley and population. Had they grown up thinking of us as something to be avoided, as we had them? Were we all regarded as descendants of a mutated tyrant? Their ancestors had obviously feared our group. Had we become their Thaay?

The chair between Bella and Alice had been kept empty. Bella hesitantly smiled at me as I sat down, searching my face for any trace of the emotions she must have realized I would be feeling. I knew she was worried, and I knew she understood how the afternoon's revelations would have affected me.

The connection we shared pulled and tugged at me. I wanted to wrap her in my arms, and rest my head on her shoulder. I wanted to breathe the sweet scent of her skin, and run my fingers through her hair. I wanted to forget everything except the way she felt in my embrace.

"Are you alright?" she had whispered, while taking my hand in hers. The gesture was comforting and reassuring, and I smiled to let her know I was at least trying to deal with the situation.

Talk and laughter swirled around me during the meal. From time to time, Bella would continue to touch me: a squeeze of my hand… a light graze of my arm… a pat on my thigh. It was soothing to be touched by her, to be surrounded by their voices; but as the evening wore on, I found myself growing increasingly quieter, and even more withdrawn.

As much as I tried to, it was difficult to engage in their conversations when my mind was still reeling from the information shared this afternoon.

Eventually, even Alice's efforts to tease me into a light-hearted argument were met with short, gruff answers – or my silence. Several times, I noticed both Bella and my Mother watching me closely, along with a few worried glances from my Father; but I chose to ignore them all. Or, at least, pretend to.

Jasper and Mary Alice sat across the table from me. Observing the two of them, so clearly captivated by each other, reminded me of Emmett and Rose. I wondered how Emmett was; if he was worried about me, or if he believed that I had perished in the Wastelands.

Perhaps Hunter would tell him that I had survived. It was clear to me that Mother had some way of staying in contact both with the people here, and with the others – probably Hunter – in our valley. How this could be done, I had no idea; I also had no idea how she could travel so quickly between our valley and this settlement. I filed these thoughts away as one more thing I needed to ask.

It seemed apparent that besides my small family, everyone else in the room must be from Korinth, or from one of the other cities; or maybe they had grown up here. It was also possible, I guess, that they could be from the space station. Mother hadn't mentioned if there were still people living there. That was another thing I wanted to know.

As I watched the people in the room, I realized that there was something different about them, something 'other' that I couldn't quite figure out. I wondered, briefly, if I were still thinking in terms of 'we' and 'they'; but I didn't think, nor did I want to believe, that I was. From the bits of conversation I could hear, we seemed to speak the same language… if, perhaps, with a different accent or inflection. The men were all about the same height, as were the women. No one seemed to be out of the ordinary or unusual.

While I sat there watching and considering, I heard Mary Alice laugh at something Jasper had said. I turned my gaze back to our table, and was met by Jared's hesitant smile. As I stared at him, I realized that I had missed something so obvious, so simple – but so completely foreign to what I was used to, that my mind just hadn't processed the difference.

Jared's eyes were blue! Mary Alice's eyes were also blue, and they both had almost black hair. This time when I searched the room, I found blue eyes, and brown eyes, and some that were almost black. I saw dark brown hair, black hair, yellow hair, and all the shades in between; but no one had red hair. Light red, or dark red, or brownish red, my family were the only people with red hair, and the only ones with green eyes. Everyone I had ever seen in my life had eyes some shade of green, and hair some shade of red.

Here was the proof of our common ancestor: everyone I had ever known was descended from Avaro.

No wonder they had had been afraid of us; no wonder they had wanted to keep us in our valley. Why were we here now, though? What had changed for them to allow us to join them? And why would they choose my Mother, a direct descendant of Avaro, to be their leader? I added those questions to my already long mental list of details I was determined to learn.

Thinking of all the questions I still wanted answered reminded me of the archives room I had been shown. The tall shelves, packed with the accumulated knowledge of generations of people who had lived before me, beckoned with secrets just waiting to be revealed. Studying the journals, maps and books in our valley's small archives had been such an important and satisfying part of my Ranger training. I wondered how my personal life, and the lives of my fellow Protectors, might have differed if we had access to the real histories and information waiting here. Could we have found a way to channel our abilities for the betterment of our people, without the rigid control of the Protector training?

I wasn't sure how many years had actually passed since Elizabeth and Ares had established our safe haven. But I did have to consider that over time, the safeguards and programs they designed and put in place could have changed, could have been slowly twisted into the form they took today. The fact that we still clung to the myth of the Thaay forced me to at least contemplate that this could be true. If we shared the real truths with our fellow citizens, could we change our society for the better? Was this the way I was going to 'save' my people, and help them start the new life that Mother kept hinting about?

The questions, the uncertainties, the doubts – all raised by one afternoon's revelations – are suddenly just too overwhelming. Even though the room is lovely, warm and inviting… complete with the sound of restful, trickling water… I can no longer find solace in its beauty. The aroma of the delicious food that was served for dinner… the laughter and talk of the people surrounding me… are no longer comforting. Light from the setting sun, entering through the overhead dome and casting its warm glow over the entire space, no longer helps lift my weary spirit. I'm tired, my hand is throbbing, and I'm ready for this very long day to just be over. All I want right now – all I crave, right now – is a quiet room, a comfortable bed, and the promise of deep, dreamless sleep.

"Jasper… ?" My inquiry startles everyone at the table – and conversation ceases, as they turn to me in surprise.

My brother's eyes widen when I ask him to show me to my room. "Of course," he answers, as he stands. "Do you want to go now?"

Answering in the affirmative, I turn to Mother and Father – explaining my fatigue, and asking to be excused. As I stand, I catch sight of Bella's face. It's filled with confusion and hurt; hurt – I now realize – I've caused by ignoring her most of the night, and asking for Jasper's help instead of hers.

"Bella… " I stutter, trying to explain myself. "I didn't think… I mean, I didn't know if it would be considered appropriate for you to… you know." I wave my hands around, gesturing towards the hallways, ineffectively trying to indicate what I'm having such a difficult time saying.

"It's alright, Edward." She glances at Jasper, then back at me again with a smile. "I imagine you have a lot of things you would like to discuss with your brother. I'll see you tomorrow."

Nodding, I briefly touch her shoulder – and wish her and the rest of the table a good night, before following Jasper out of the room.

Jasper leads me to the yellow hallway that I was in earlier today, explaining that it is the only one that is not completely underground, and that most of the rooms have some type of a window. "Not being able to see outside can take a bit of getting used to when you've spent so much time outdoors," he adds. "That's why most new people are given quarters in this hall."

The door he opens at the end of the hallway leads to a room much like the one I had at home. It's larger and more colorful, though, with blue painted walls and striped, white and blue linens on the large corner bed. Two wooden chairs flank a small table in the opposite corner, and a large, soft rug covers most of the stone floor. A row of narrow windows tops two of the walls, allowing warm light from the setting sun to filter in. Pegs on one wall hold my weapons, and I'm surprised and pleased to see they have been cleaned and cared for.

There is a small bedside table, but no candles or flint. Instead, he tells me that the object sitting on top is called a lamp; and then he shows me how to turn it on and off, after explaining that it also uses electricity to make light – just like the globes that illuminate the hallways. Jasper opens the drawers that make up a small chest, showing me several changes of day clothes and sleepwear that have been provided for me. The bottom drawer holds my Ranger gear; and it, too, has been cleaned and repaired.

The only other door in the room leads to a large bathing room, which contains a water toilet, cleaning basin and a shower with the same type of soaking tub under it that I've learned to appreciate in my barracks room at home. Jasper chuckles when he hears my sigh of pleasure as soon as I spot it.

He laughs even harder when I tell him about the hours I spent soaking my tired muscles after enduring a day of Hunter's training. We spend the next few minutes reminiscing about Hunter and his training methods, his gruff exterior, and his practical jokes. Apparently, he was reliably fond of having his new Rangers dress in their very tight, and very revealing, knitted thermals; not only did Jasper and I both suffer the indignity, but he had also tricked Liam into wearing them to the mess hall, too.

There is a quiet moment when we've finished laughing, both of us thinking of Liam and of Hunter.

"Does he know I'm here? Does he know I'm alright?"

"Yes," Jasper admits. "He's been kept informed about your journey and your progress."

"So he knows about the Fanger bite?" My question sets off another round of chuckles from Jasper.

"Oh, yeah," he smirks. "He made some very colorful comments about 'stupid, incompetent Rangers, who should never be allowed to leave the valley until they learn to look where they're putting their hands.' But, it's good, man," Jasper continues. "He's really glad you're okay."

We're quiet again as we both shift uncomfortably, knowing there is so much we need to say to each other… but neither one knowing how to start the conversation.

"You know what the best thing is about those tubs?" Jasper asks, suddenly breaking our silence.

"Uh, no?"

He chuckles at my confused reply. "Well, they're big enough for two people; and let me tell you, brother – bathing is a lot more fun with someone else in the tub with you."

"What… ?" His words have left me completely bewildered, and I frown at him, trying to understand why he would want to clean himself with someone else in the tub… and who could possibly want to bathe with him. "Why would you want to bathe with someone else? And who would want to do that with you?" The idea seems disgusting, and I can't hide the disapproval in my voice. Sharing a shower room with my cohort was a normal, everyday occurrence, and one I never questioned; but relaxing in a large tub of water with one of my fellow cadets, while we washed the sweat and grime from our bodies, just seems perplexing to me.

He's doubled over laughing now, gasping for breath as he smirks up at me.

"I don't understand what is so funny," I frown. "That just seems so… " I look down at the tub, imagining it full of water – and someone else in there with me, trying to wash their naked… "Oh… " I manage to say, while my mind now pictures glimpses of wet skin flushed with heat from the warm water… of soapy hands washing newly uncovered body parts… and of soft towels used to pat dry someone else's… "Oh!"

Jasper grins at me when I finally look at him again. "Asshole," I mutter, smiling when he starts laughing again. "So. You and Mary Alice, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. She's the one for me; and she dearly loves a nice warm bath, especially when I… "

"Enough," I yell, interrupting him as he continues to snicker. "I don't need any details."

Trying to change the subject, I ask him what the socials are like here, and when the next one will be – thinking that perhaps I will be able to spend some time with Bella then.

"Edward," he hesitates, tilting his head as he watches me. "We don't have socials here. Mary Alice and I live together. We share a couple's quarters in the green corridor."

"But… you're still on active duty! You're not allowed to marry until you muster out. You can't… " I flounder, trying to make sense of what he has just said. "When you go back to the valley, you won't be able to live with her there. You have to complete your oath, Jasper. You're a Protector – a _Ranger_ – and you… "

"Edward," he interrupts me. "Mother just explained to you about Elizabeth and Ares, and why the Protector program was started, yes?" When I nod, he continues. "We don't have Protectors here; we don't need them. And soon, we won't need them in the valley, either."

All I can do is stand and stare at him, as the full implications of what he has just said begin to filter into my brain. There are so many possible meanings, so many consequences to the statement he just made.

"How… ?"

"Let's find a more comfortable place to talk," he suggests, walking back into the main room. "Why don't you prop yourself up with those pillows on the bed there, and I'll get a chair."

Jasper settles into one of the chairs, dragging the other in front of him to rest his feet, as I stretch out on the bed, with multiple pillows supporting my shoulders and head. But before I can say anything, he warns me that if we start talking about the valley and the future, then we will be here all night.

"Besides," he adds. "There are too many details that I don't know about myself. The advisory council will be meeting soon to discuss everything, and we'll all be there; so I suggest we leave that topic for another time, and you ask me some of the other things you want to know that I _can_ answer."

What he says makes sense, so I think about the questions I had been listing in my mind during dinner.

"You said Hunter knows about me," I begin. "It's obvious that people from this settlement are in communication with our valley; so how, exactly, do they do that? How did Mother know I was hurt, and how does Hunter know I'm okay?"

Jasper nods his head, "You're right, they do talk to each other. They have a machine called a _transmitter_ that can send sound waves over a long distance. If you have a receiver, you can gather those sound waves and convert them into words. So the people here can talk to Mother and Father, and Mother and Father can talk back to them, because they both have a transmitter and a receiver."

His words are confusing, and I know I need to get more details; but all I can focus on is his revelation that they have some of the same technology – at home, in _our_ valley – that I've seen here. "What!" I react in astonishment. "They have a transmitter and a receiver machine? Where is it?"

"Oh, it's at their house," he answers, trying unsuccessfully to contain his smug smile at my surprise. "You've probably walked right by it and never noticed."

"You're having way too much fun with this," I grimace. "But I'll play along: so where is this marvelous, mysterious machine?"

Jasper is laughing so hard, he can barely answer my question. "Oh, dear Ares," he gasps. "You are not going to believe this, Edward. Father… Father hides the pieces in his bee hives!"

"He _what_ … ?" And, suddenly, I'm laughing, too. Laughing at the image of Father secreting the pieces of an unknown machine in his beehives, where no one would think – or even want – to search; and laughing at the genius of having his humble bees protect a piece of advanced technology.

I watch my brother as we both laugh. He looks so relaxed, so happy. We didn't get to spend a lot of time together growing up; and once we became cadets, our time was structured and organized around our age cohorts. We saw each other during the Oath Week celebrations and at the other yearly festivals; but those were always busy times, and filled with family activities that left little time for brotherly bonding. I was always slightly in awe of my older brother, and looked up to Jasper as the perfect cadet, Protector, and, ultimately, Ranger.

Now as I watch him, I realize that we have a chance to get to know each other as two brothers, two friends. I'm still smiling when Jasper finally stops laughing, and he smiles back at me.

"How did you know the parts were there? Did he show you?"

Jasper taps his head with his finger.

"Ahh, your gift. Mother told me a little about it; but I really don't understand how it works. She also said they helped you deal with it while you were still a cadet."

"Yeah," he slowly replies. "Things started happening around the time I turned twelve. At first, I thought something was wrong with my eyes and ears. I started seeing people in different colors, and feeling emotions flowing from them.

"Like right now, when I look at you, I can tell you are feeling relaxed and contented; even with all the confusion and doubts I know are lingering in your mind, you are still feeling a sense of happiness being here in this room with me. I can 'feel' those emotions when I concentrate my attention on you; but I can also 'see' it – because you are glowing, right now – with a warm, yellow light."

Without even thinking, I raise my hand to see this 'warm, yellow light' he is describing. Of course, it is not visible to me, earning me another teasing smirk from him when he realizes what I am doing.

"Other emotions look different," he continues to explain. "Anger, I see as a slight red tint to the skin; and when I try to 'feel' someone who is angry, it actually, physically, hurts. Sadness makes people look like they have a blue shadow over them; and frustration causes an orange vibration in the air around them."

"But the best one, Edward," he smiles, leaning towards me, "the best one is love. When I see people who are feeling love – be it two young lovers who have just discovered one another, or a parent and child enjoying their time together, or a married couple who have spent years with each other – when I see that kind of love, those people _shine_. They have a glow about them that makes them almost shimmer as they move. It's beautiful to see – but confusing as all fuck to a twelve-year-old boy."

He laughs softly again, shaking his head. "Thankfully, most people don't feel strong emotions that often – so most people look fairly normal, most of the time. But when it started, I kept rubbing my eyes and complaining about the colors. The trainers sent me to the doctors; but I had a hard time explaining what I was seeing and feeling and hearing. They sent me home from the barracks, not sure that I could continue my training."

That information surprises me; I had never known this before.

"It was truly frightening," he continues. "For awhile, everyone thought I might be losing my sight and my hearing. Then, I thought maybe it was inside me; that I was something bad – like part Thaay, or not a true person. I even worried that I would never be able to complete my training to become a Protector."

Leaning back in his chair a bit, Jasper folds his arms behind his head and shifts to get more comfortable, before turning to look at me again.

"Thankfully, it didn't take Mother very long to figure out what was going on. Having someone really listen and believe what I was saying helped, too. I was home for a couple of months; and in that time, I learned how to filter out or ignore most of what I was seeing and feeling. But we also discovered that if I concentrated without fighting it, I could 'push' emotions at people and animals to make them feel the things I wanted them to feel."

"And the lying thing? Being able to sense if someone is telling the truth, or only part of it?" I ask, encouraging him to keep talking.

"Ahh, yes. That started a bit earlier. When someone says something that isn't completely truthful, even if they don't realize it isn't the truth, their voice is different. It has a strange quality to it, a different kind of pitch. It's hard to explain," he shrugs. "And even harder to believe – but then, so is your shield," he laughs.

"And if they are deliberately lying?"

"That is much, much worse. When someone deliberately says something that is completely false, and they _know_ it's completely false, then their skin has a sickly, greenish-yellow tint to it – and their voice is gruff and guttural, almost as if they are growling. Thankfully, that doesn't happen very often… although it was a lot of fun when I was able to catch Hunter in a few of his more outrageous tales."

We both laugh at Jasper's words, thinking about our friend and mentor. I occurs to me that I actually miss Hunter, and I wonder when – and if – I will see him again.

As though he can read my mind, Jasper casually informs me that Hunter and Kate will be here in a few days to attend the advisory council meeting, and that I'll get a chance to talk to them then.

"Kate, too? She knows about all this?"

"Yes; she's taken a more active role, ever since she and Hunter got together."

"Damn it, Jasper," I blurt out. "How many other people know what is going on? Why do I feel like the last person to learn the truth?"

My frustration immediately has me up and on my feet, pacing the floor.

"Why wasn't I told anything before now? Mother and Father helped _you_ – but never said a word to _me_. I spent my life thinking something was wrong with me, worried that I was part Thaay or something. And now, now I find out that all these _other_ people knew about this place all along, and the truth about our history. It's like some big fucking conspiracy or something."

Shouting by the time I finish, I round on Jasper – only to find him holding his head with a pained expression.

"Please calm down, Edward," he pleads. "Lay back down and relax. You've had a lot handed to you in one day, and you're still recovering from the Fanger's bite. You're not supposed to understand everything in one day. Besides," he grimaces, a mischievous smirk just barely beginning on his face. "You look really bad in orange."

"What the… ?"

He points a finger at me, drawing a line up and down my body, then tapping his head. "Frustration, remember? Orange. Just not a good look on you," he laughs, shaking his head.

Suddenly feeling exhausted and worn-out, I flop back on the bed… closing my eyes, before muttering another 'asshole' to my brother… who is still chuckling softly. It takes me a minute or two to realize what he has done; and when I open my eyes to look back at him, he has the decency to look guilty.

"You did that, didn't you?"

"What can I say?" he grins. "It's a gift!"

Then we can't help ourselves from laughing more, and I appreciate my brother all over again for his efforts to ease my fears and worries.

"Jasper," I whisper, when we have both finally stopped. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, brother," he whispers back.

The bed is soft and comfortable… and I am very, very tired. I close my eyes, enjoying the peace and well-being I know he is sending my way. After a few minutes, I hear his chair creak, and I slowly open my eyes – to find him watching me intently.

"Edward… " he starts, hesitantly.

Seeing the seriousness on his face, I roll over onto my side, propping my head up with my arm so that I can concentrate on what he wants to say.

"I don't know everything," he continues. "I do know that during all the years we've lived in our valley, there have been many of us with abilities or gifts. But none of them have ever had their gifts explained to them until _after_ they took their Oath. I was the only one that had to have help while still a cadet. It's not that I was special, or that our parents cared about me more than you or Emmett. It's because there was a very real possibility that I would not be allowed to finish my training; that I would be found unsuitable, and removed from my cohort. That had never happened to anyone before, and it was a risk that just could not be taken."

"The Protector program works because it trains us to think in terms of the whole, rather than just ourselves. It weeds out selfishness and greed, and makes us care about our society and our people. Once you've taken your Oath, it's part of you. Even with all the power that your abilities could give you, Edward, you could never use them in any way other than what your training will allow. You're a Protector now, and you always will be."

He stands then, and begins to make his way to the door… before turning back to speak, once again.

"I know you have more questions; but that's enough for tonight. I'm tired, you're tired, and… " he pauses, before a huge grin splits his face. "I'm feeling the need for a really long soak in a tub full of hot, soapy water!"

With a laugh, he's out the door, closing it gently behind him. Before his footsteps stop echoing down the hallway, I'm already asleep.

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AN:To those of you who will be celebrating, a Happy Thanksgiving, and, if you are traveling, a safe journey. At the top of my list of things I am thankful for this year will be you, dear readers, and also the amazing Bellebiter, to whom I am thankful every day! See you after the holidays!


	22. Chapter 22

The Protector

Chapter 22

AN: This chapter is not betaed, all mistakes are mine. No copyright infringement is intended. Thank you for reading.

EPOV

Even before I open my eyes the next morning, I know that I've slept well into the day. The room is warm, and I can feel the sunshine slanting through the narrow windows and shining on the middle of the bed where I lie tangled in my blankets. I don't want to get up, I don't even want to open my eyes; but a desperate need to relieve myself, and a dry scratchy throat force me to roll over and stumble out of bed.

I hurt all over.

I'm surprised how sore and tired my muscles are as I make my way slowly to the bathing room. I feel like I've spent the entire previous day completing one of Hunter's extra long, extra hard training sessions. Perhaps I did, I think wryly to myself, for my dreams had been nightmarish scenes of running from dangerous, green-eyed beings who wanted me to use my 'powers' to help them. Those had been mixed with nightmares of desperately trying to find Bella while Fangers and Yippers seemed to be waiting to attack me in whatever direction I turned. I had awoken several times to find my hand throbbing and my voice harsh from calling out.

After using the toilet, I wash my hands and face in the basin and clean my teeth with the supplies I find on the counter. I drink several cups of water from the spigot before my thirst is somewhat slackened. The soaking tub beckons, and I smile thinking of last night's conversation with Jasper. I know a long, hot bath would do wonders for my aching body. Before I start the water, however, my growling stomach reminds me that it has been hours since I've eaten. The tub will just have to wait a little while longer.

There is a timid knock on the door when I reenter the main room. Opening it, I find Bella standing there holding a tray filled with food and drink. The smell of food elicits another loud growl from my stomach making us both laugh at my embarrassment.

"When I heard the water running, I thought you might be awake and I knew you'd be hungry," she explains, before setting the tray down on the small table between the chairs. She shifts her feet awkwardly and glances around the room quickly before continuing. "Doctor Marcus says you need to eat and drink as much as possible today. He left a couple of pills for you to take to help with the swelling and soreness you might be experiencing. Oh, and you are also under doctor's orders to rest the remainder of the day and to not leave this room until it's time for dinner," she laughs.

"Well," she hesitates, gesturing towards the door. "I guess I'll go and let you eat your meal now."

"Bella," I stop her before she can leave. "Will you stay, please?"

A wide smile lights up her face as she turns back to me. "I was hoping you'd ask," she admits. "But I didn't want to impose if you were too tired or wanted to be alone."

The table is just big enough for the tray she has brought, so I shift my chair around to face it. Bella does the same and we both smile at the same time when we realize we are having a meal together, just the two of us – our first ever. There is a large pitcher of the same sweet apple juice from the day before and two mugs on one side of the tray. I fill both before handing one to her and taking the other for myself.

Bella nibbles on a handful of nuts and dried fruit as I attack the food piled high on my plate. When I offer to share, she tells me she has already eaten. Thin slices of roasted chicken have been layered, along with some fresh greens, on two thick slices of bread. The inside of each piece of bread has been spread with a sweet, spicy blend of goat cheese and berries. The combination of flavors is delicious, and I hum appreciatively as I enjoy each bite. A covered bowl holds warm vegetable soup, and I find several small honey-flavored cakes for dessert on a small wrapped dish.

Between bites of food I manage to ask Bella how she could hear the water running and learn that her room is next door to mine, and that she chose it because of the windows; adding that she missed the sunlight in rooms without them.

Conversation is light throughout the remainder of the meal.

She asks how I am feeling, I ask if she has seen my family this morning.

She asks if I slept well, I mention it was a rough night.

It's obvious we are both ignoring the bigger issues that we need to discuss.

When I am finished with the tray, she picks it up and places in on the end of the bed, before sitting back in the chair across the table from me.

"Edward… "

"Bella… "

We laugh when we speak over each other. "You first," I nod.

Reaching out she takes my right hand, staring down at it while she rubs her thumb lightly over my knuckles. I can still feel the calluses on her fingers. "I know these last few months have not been easy for you, Edward. I know things were confusing and frustrating. Your mother told you how proud she was of you, how proud everyone was of you, in fact; but I want you to know that I was proud of you too."

Her voice has dropped to almost a whisper as she speaks those words. Bella lifts her head then and smiles at me, her gaze is full of soft love, full of sweet pride. "I'm still proud of you, Edward, very, very much."

For awhile we can only look at each other. Her gaze shifts to the black scars and the swelling still left from the Fanger bite on my hand. As I watch, her face clouds over with regret and sorrow, and tears fill her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I am so, so sorry."

"Bella," I chuckle, trying to ease her guilt. "I can assure you that none of that was your fault. I made a stupid mistake and didn't scan where I was putting my hand. You had nothing to do with what happened."

"But I did, Edward," she gulps. "Everything was my fault. You weren't supposed to be there on that rock, you weren't supposed to leave the valley yet. I made a mistake. I was selfish and disobeyed orders, and I did this to you!" she exclaims, pointing at the Fanger bite. "You could have died because of me. I'm sorry Edward, I'm so, very, very sorry."

By now Bella is openly sobbing, tears running down her face, and I'm still confused as to why she would think any of this was her fault. Not knowing quite what to do to console her, I reach out and awkwardly pat her shoulder, whispering, "Shh, shh, love, its okay, its alright. It wasn't your fault."

My feeble attempts only serve to bring on another fresh bout of tears and I realize I'll get no answers unless I can calm her and stop the sobbing. Pushing my chair back, I stand and round the table to her side. One arm goes under her knees, another around her back, as I pick her up and walk us both over to the bed. Sitting down on the edge, I shift her body so that she is sitting across my lap, and pull her head into my chest while I run my hand slowly up and down her back. She shifts herself slightly to get more comfortable and wraps her arms around my torso.

Her sobs have quieted somewhat; but I can feel her body shaking against mine. "Bella," I whisper. "Do you remember on the rock when you and Jasper were shooting at the Yippers?" She nods slightly in answer. "I was watching you. I watched you stride purposely around the top of that formation. You were dressed in Ranger leathers and you stood proud and strong as you fired arrow after arrow into that pack of Yippers. The wind was blowing your hair and cloak around you, and you handled your bow as expertly as anyone I had ever trained with. As I watched you, I thought you were the strongest, most magnificent woman I had ever seen. I was so proud that you had come to rescue me, that you cared enough about me to put yourself in danger because of me."

"So, you see, love," I sigh, still rubbing her back slowly. "If I had not been on that rock, I would not have seen you in those leathers. I would not have one of the favorite images of my whole life stored away up here in my head." Tapping my head with one finger, I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "I need for you to be that strong woman now, Bella. I need you to tell me what has been going on and why you think it was your fault."

We're both quiet now as I wait for her to speak. Finally she takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. Her face is still hidden in my chest as she begins to speak.

"We were there, you know," I hear her sniff as she tries to control her tears. "Jasper and I, at your Oath Taking. We were hidden in one of the rooms overlooking the amphitheater. I knew that I would not be going to the social that night and would soon have to leave the valley, and, of course, Jasper had to make sure he wouldn't be seen or recognized; but we couldn't _not_ be there for you. We knew you were going to be assigned as a Ranger. Almost every Protector with some type of gift, some type of ability, is assigned as a Ranger, and we knew when you finally quit suppressing yours, that you were going to be very powerful."

"So, we were hidden away watching you. At one point in the ceremony, Jasper could tell you were beginning to panic when you realized where you were going to be assigned. We both tried to reach out to you. I concentrated on sending you my love, my support, hoping that my feelings for you would help, hoping I could strengthen the bond between us and give you some peace; but I don't think it did," she sighs again and then huffs. "Jasper said it was just giving you a headache."

Her admission stirs memories of that day and the dread I felt when Garrett was assigned to the medical corp and I realized, without a doubt, that I was going to become a Ranger. My head had hurt, and I had felt a loud buzzing in my ears.

"That was you?" I interrupt. "The pressure in my head, the buzzing in my ears?"

"Yes," she straightens and leans away from my chest, her eyes searching my face. "Your felt it?"

"I did, and not just then, but other times as well. Were they all you?"

"No, most of the time it was your gift trying to break through; but there were times when it was me, or at least our connection."

I want to ask her about those other times, and about some of the dreams I've had about her; but I want her to finish her story first. "Go on," I urge. "What happened after that."

"Well, Jasper tried to reach you. He said he was sending you feelings of peace and acceptance. Did you feel those?"

"Oh, I did," I smile at her, remembering the calm that had filled me when I repeated my vows. "Suddenly everything felt… finished. I had trained all my life to be a Protector, to take my Oath, and then, when I said the words, I felt completed, whole, serene. Was that all Jasper's doing?" I ask.

"No, most of that was you, Edward. Jasper just helped you calm down a little so you could accept the rightness of your assignment."

Bella moves to stand; but I wrap my arms around her hips, pulling her closer to me. "Stay, please," I ask.

"I was afraid I was getting too heavy," she giggles, before settling back against me with a contented sigh.

"No, never." I lean towards her and place a quick kiss just below her ear, letting my breath blow against her neck, and grinning when she shivers slightly.

"Edward," she admonishes.

"Okay, okay," I agree. "Now on with the story."

She is quiet then, but just when I think she is not going to speak, I hear her begin. Her voice is soft, serious, and filled with remorse.

"I couldn't attend the Oath Night social; but I was there, hidden away again, torturing myself as I watched you drink and drink, trying to drown the sorrow we could see on your face. Sorrow that I caused, that I put there. Not because I wanted to, Edward; but still my fault."

A shudder shakes her body and I know she's close to tears again as she pauses and swallows audibly. There is a small cloth napkin on the tray and I pick it up, handing it to her. She wipes her eyes and nose before beginning to speak again.

"I followed as Kate helped you to your room that night and put you to bed. I came in later and watched you sleep. You were restless, moaning and calling out for me, and I tried to comfort you. Your Mother and Hunter found me there. We argued, I cried; but in the end I knew I had to leave, and so I did. I stayed away for almost three months until I couldn't stand it anymore and then, when I disobeyed my orders and sneaked back into the valley to see you; I got caught trying to leave."

Bella stops, wiping her eyes again, while I consider all she has just revealed to me. I remember the night of the first social, remember feeling so betrayed that she had not been there. I remembered too, the honeyed wine that I had consumed all night in an effort to numb the shock, the sadness, and the disappointment that my Oath Day had brought me. The images that had haunted my sleep, and that I had assumed were nightmares, had been real. Bella had actually been there, as well as Hunter and my Mother.

There are many more questions that need to be asked, more story that needs to be told; but the only thought in my mind at this moment was, why. Why couldn't she attend the social, and why did she have to leave? And so I ask.

"Why, Bella? Why didn't you come to the social?"

I don't know if she is expecting a different question; but she pulls away from me and turns to look up at me before she answers.

"I… " she starts. "I can't… I don't know if… "

Annoyance flashes through me and I shake my head at her. "No more secrets, Bella, please. If this is going to work between us," I point at her and then myself. "If you care about me as much as I care about you, then we can't have anymore secrets. I want the truth, good or bad… I want the truth. All of it!"

She studies my face intently as I stare at her. I know she sees the resolve on my face, sees the seriousness that I know is there. After a moment she nods. "No more secrets, I promise I'll tell you everything. It's just that the explanation behind my reasons for not being able to attend the social are pretty long and involved, and maybe we should finish this story, before we start another?"

Her smile is disarming and I have to agree with her. When I shift slightly she stands and refills the mugs, before handing one to me. We've been sitting in the same position for awhile, so I stand and stretch out my back while we sip the juice.

Bella slips into the bathing room and emerges a few minutes later with her face freshly washed and a small smile on her face. I start to sit back down; but she stops me, before crawling to the center of the bed and propping herself up on one of the pillows. I'm not sure what she wants me to do; but she makes her intention clear when she places a pillow beside hers and pats the bed next to her.

"Lie down, Edward."

I settle onto the bed beside her, placing another pillow beneath my shoulders and head, propping myself up a bit. When I'm settled, Bella scoots closer to me, aligning her body alongside mine before rolling towards me so that her head is resting on the side of my chest. My arm seems to naturally find its way around her shoulders, and I pull her closer against me.

"There," she sighs. "That feels much more comfortable. I was afraid I was getting too heavy on your lap." She wraps her arm around my waist and wiggles slightly as she snuggles closer to me. The feel of her body against mine is beginning to affect me, but I want her to finish the story.

"So, you stayed away for three months," I prompt.

"Yes," she explains. "I was sent to Korinth to help with their harvest and to help move the rest of their people and their supplies here. To take my mind off of what was going on with you, I begged Jasper to train me with the bow and he did. I found I liked shooting it, and I surprised everyone by being quite good, too. It made me feel strong and powerful at a time when I was feeling weak and helpless."

"I guess it was in one of those moments that I decided to sneak back into the valley to see you. I knew a social was planned, and I reasoned that if anyone happened to see me, they wouldn't be surprised to see a woman coming or going from the barracks on the night of a social."

Bella's hand has been slowly drawing circles on my abdomen. It tickles a bit, so I capture her hand in mine to stop her, rubbing the calluses on her fingertips as I do.

"I had planned to stay longer that evening; but when you discovered those," she nods towards her fingertips. "I panicked and ran. I was crying, not paying enough attention to what I was doing, when I was spotted by a patrol while trying to escape through the woods. I tried to outrun them, but I wasn't fast enough and there were just too many. They took me to an officer at the wall barracks for questioning, and it was very obvious I had no excuse or reason to be in that area at night. The next time I saw you was at the trial the following afternoon."

"I felt you," I whisper in surprise, remembering the strange, twisted dreams of being chased by shadowy figures who grabbed me when I tried to escape. "That night… I thought they were nightmares, but it was you, Bella. I felt what was happening to you when you got caught!"

She props herself up on an elbow to look at me as I continue to talk.

"And the whole next morning everything felt off, felt different somehow. I couldn't figure out what was happening, why I was feeling that way; but it must have been you! I must have been feeling your anxiety. Is our connection… our bond, is it really that strong?"

A wide smile lights up Bella's face as she rolls herself further up on my chest, her upper body now resting against mine. "Yes," she nods. Her hand reaches out and smooths the hair back from my forehead, before trailing a finger lightly down my nose and tracing the outline of my lips. She leans in closer, eyes watching me carefully, as she slowly and tentatively places a soft kiss on my mouth. "Yes, Edward," she repeats, her breath tickling a line from my lips to my ear as she follows it with quick, tiny kisses. "And the more of this we do, the stronger it will become."

My arm tightens around her shoulders as I flip us over until she is beneath me. I've trapped her arms between us. "Oh, no. I've got you now, little tease," I laugh when she tries to free them. "My turn," I whisper, kissing her eyes, her nose, and finally her mouth. Our kiss starts soft and sweet; but soon the desire we feel for each other takes over and her lips open to my tongue. When I pull away, we are both breathing deeply, our eyes searching each other's face for the attraction we know is waiting there.

I've wedged my body into the cradle of her hips and as we stare at each other, I begin to slowly move my lower body against hers, rubbing the places that are begging for more friction. Her arms move from between us and wrap around me, pulling me tighter against her, while her legs open to wrap around my hips.

"Bella?" I whisper.

"Huh?" she manages to gasp out.

"If we do more of this, will our connection get stronger?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Good, because I like doing this." I laugh, stilling my hips, but trailing a line of kisses down her neck. When I pull back to look at her, she's scowling at me.

"Why did you stop?" she huffs.

I laugh again at her frustration. "Because I have a feeling you were going to stop me before things went too much further, anyway,"

Grinning at the guilty look on her face, I roll over to my back again, pulling her with me and settling her against my side. "And because, when we finally get a chance to 'strengthen our connection' again," I chuckle. "I want to be able to take my time, and I don't want unanswered questions lingering in my head, causing me to have doubts about us and our future."

I feel Bella's nod against my chest. "Okay," she whispers.

"Now, you had just been caught sneaking out of the valley."

For the next few minutes I listen to Bella tell me how, upon finding her missing, Jasper had contacted my parents, who then discovered that she was being held at the wall barracks, making it impossible for them to arrange an escape.

Knowing that she would have to be transported to the city for her trial, and knowing that she would be found guilty, and also knowing that as a woman, she would have to be guarded by one of the matrons; my parents, along with Hunter and Jasper, had made plans for her escape.

Their biggest worry had been my reaction. They were afraid I would try to intervene someway by using my gifts and alerting the officers to my capabilities. That was why Hunter had ordered me to stay in my room until everything had been set in motion.

"And Alice," I prompt when she stops talking.

"Ah yes, Alice," she sighs. "Well, one of our biggest concerns was that knowing of our feelings for each other, the officers would suspect you of aiding in my escape and charge you with treason. We also needed to be sure it would be you who would be sent to the Wastelands to bring me back and not Hunter. So, they decided to send Alice with me to make it look like a kidnapping, thereby ensuring that it would appear you had a personal incentive to follow and find me."

I can't help the groan that escapes me when I realize that my sister was exposed to the perils of the Wastelands just to remove any suspicion from me.

Pushing herself up on her arm, Bella turns to look at me. "Edward, believe me, Alice was never in any danger."

"How can you say that?" I interrupt her. "The minute she walked out of the valley, she was at risk!"

"No, she wasn't! Do you really think your parents, Hunter, Jasper, or I, would let anything happen to Alice?"

"There is another way out of the valley, Edward. It's an old mining shaft that cuts through the foothills and exits the valley on the northeast side. It's been boarded up for years and anyone who happened to stumble upon it, would just think it was an old abandoned mine. Jasper was waiting for us there with the rover. He picked up Alice and me and drove us here to the settlement."

"But… but I tracked you." I state, thinking of the faint signs I saw on the trail. "There were traces on the path that indicated someone had been there."

"That was Jasper. Before he met Alice and me, he went to the trail you would be using and walked sections. He said you were an expert tracker and would notice if no one had been there. We needed you to stay on that route and get as far away from the valley as possible, before we picked you up."

"But you didn't pick me up. What happened?"

"The storm," she sighs. "We left Alice here and went back for you. Our plan was to meet you when you came down into the canyon. But you got there so much sooner that we thought you would. We waited and waited, but you never showed up. Finally Jasper decided we should check the nearest water source, and that's when we realized you had already been there, and we had missed you."

"And then the storm hit," I add.

"Yes. We tried to follow you, tried to catch you; but the storm was just too severe. The wind was blowing so hard against the side of the rover that we were afraid it would be pushed over. Jasper said that once the wind started rolling us, we would never survive, and so he turned south towards the Wastelands and drove as fast and as hard as he could to get us to safety."

I feel Bella shaking and hear her sniff and I know she is overcome with emotion again. "Bella, love? Don't, please. It's alright, I'm alright," My left arm is around her again and I pull her closer to me trying to reassure her. "I'm glad Jasper got you to safety. We're here talking about this, because he did. I survived the storm, my shield protected me and I made it to Korinth."

"I know," she whispers between sobs. "Jasper kept reassuring me your shield would keep you safe. He said you were smart and trained and close enough to Korinth that you would make it there. But, I didn't believe him. I couldn't believe that anything was strong enough to protect you from that storm."

"It was horrible, Edward," she shudders. "The wind, it was so loud! Jasper's mouth was moving and I knew he was shouting at me; but I couldn't hear him. The sand was blowing against the back and over the top of the rover and it sounded like it would tear the metal apart. There were downed trees and bushes rolling past us and rocks being flung into our path. I don't know how Jasper was able to keep driving and manage to miss all the debris that was being flung about."

"He saved our lives that day," she sighs. "But I was so angry at him for leaving you, for letting you die. Because that's what I thought, Edward. I believed you were dead, and I knew that it was all my fault for going back to the valley when I had been told not to. And then… and then," she begins to sob again. "When the storm had finally stopped and we went back hoping to find you… you were on the top of that rock formation, surrounded by Yippers, and deathly sick from a Fanger bite. And it was _my_ fault, Edward! All my fault, and I am so sorry, so very, very sorry."

She turns her head into my chest and begins to cry again, loud, gasping sobs that wrack her small frame. I'm at a loss of words to try and comfort her. I truly don't know what to say. Her description of being in the storm is horrifying. She and Jasper were in much more danger than I was. I know her guilt is overwhelming her and I know that, in some ways, it is deserved. Had she been a cadet, her actions would have warranted her a severe punishment.

But she is not a cadet, she is, instead, the woman I care deeply about and intend, someday, to build a life with; and so, I can not lie here and let her grieve. "Shh, love, shh." I rub my hand slowly up and down her back as she continues to weep into my side.

"I'm right here, I didn't die." My hand wanders to her hair and I begin to carefully run my fingers through her chestnut curls.

"We're together now, and that's all that matters. Shh, shh." Gradually, her crying turns into sniffles and then into slow, deep breaths. She stills against me, and I realize she has fallen asleep.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, I shift myself off the pillows until I am lying flatter on the bed, and then for the first time, I fall asleep holding the woman I love in my arms.

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AN: Sorry for the wait on this chapter. Real life has a way of interrupting our best laid plans and family matters have to be taken care of first. Hugs to Bellebiter, who has been hit especially hard. To all of you who celebrate, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. And to the person who nominated me for Newbie Author in the Twific Fandom Awards, thank you so very much. I am beyond honored and appreciate the support.


	23. Chapter 23

The Protector

Chapter 23

No copyright infringement is intended. Bellebiter worked her magic, but any remaining mistakes are mine.

EPOV

For the first time, I fall asleep holding the woman I love in my arms.

And, for the first time, I awaken – holding the woman I love, in my arms.

Sometime in-between the two, we've managed to pull the blankets over ourselves and roll over so that Bella is no longer nestled into my side, with her head resting on my chest. Instead, she's lying with her back to me, and I've wrapped myself over and around her: one arm around her waist, holding her against me; the other cradling her head, where it rests on the pillow.

I can feel her, warm and soft beside me, as her chest rises and falls with each slow breath she takes.

The room is cold and dark, a slight sliver of silver moonlight tracing a faint path across the floor to illuminate the bed where we curl together, cocooned in our nest of blankets. There is just enough light for me to see the profile of her face – thick eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks, and her lips gently pursed as though in thought. Slight movement beneath her eyelids makes me wonder if she is dreaming… and, if so, is her dream about us?

Watching her slumber reminds me of the last time I was on scouting patrol with my cohort – and the last time I had slept next to another person.

There must be something in our most primitive being… a deep-seated, instinctual need… that seeks company on a cold, dark night. I always felt safe with my fellow cadets around me; but that feeling is _nothing_ like the intense pleasure I feel sleeping next to Bella. There is something so satisfying, so innocently sensual, in just lying here next to her. I smile when I think to myself how much more I prefer her company to Tyler's or Emmett's.

That was also the last time I dreamed of protecting Bella, and had awoken in time to alert everyone before the Yippers attacked. I remember sending out fingers of awareness to check on the sentries, then suddenly seeing the flash of light from beyond the green fog.

Now here I am, less than four months later… in an underground settlement, hidden even further beyond that foggy barrier… changed in so many ways, both physical and mental.

Before I let myself get lost in considering all the secrets that have been shared with me – or in all the multitude of details I know I am still not understanding – I focus back on the woman still sleeping beside me. Bella revealed so much of herself to me today: her overwhelming guilt about the Fanger bite, and the missed connections during the storm; her fierce loyalty to my family, especially to Alice and Jasper; and her daring bravery in facing the haboob and Yippers, when she fought to rescue me.

But it is the deeper connection we share that I've learned the most about from our conversation. I'm still amazed that I can feel her emotions, even when we are physically separated. I wonder how much more intense our connection will be, as our relationship grows?

That, of course, is the big question… and the issue she managed to ignore this afternoon. I've learned so many things in the last two days; but the answer I truly crave is _why_? Why did Bella have to leave the valley and me for the last four months? And why could she not come to the socials?

Just as I'm beginning to consider all the possibilities, Bella shifts in her sleep, rolling over to face me. She pulls my arm out from under her head and wraps her arms around it, snuggling it against her chest. My other arm and hand rest on the curve of her hip and lower back. When she moves again, I can feel her breast through the thin fabric of her tunic. The exotic weight of it fills my hand, and I'm overcome with an aching need to touch her.

I want to pull her so close that there is no end of me or beginning of her.

Not wanting to disturb her sleep, I close my eyes and try to calm myself, relaxing into the stillness of the moment. It has been a long time since I tried to touch someone with my senses; I've used them only to make sure that my fellow cadets were safe, or that there were no Yippers or Fangers in the area. Using my awareness only gives me a general vague impression that someone, or something, is there. I can tell the difference between a person and different animals, but no real details about either one.

As I lie here in the moonlight next to Bella, I wonder what it would be like to feel her. What could I sense about her, if I tried to touch her with my mind? And as soon as I think it, I'm reaching out to her. Tentatively, I open my mind to send a questing finger of awareness towards her. Then – just when I reach our – I can also feel the settlement around me: the very faint pulse of hundreds of people, slumbering in their beds. A few of them are awake, and I can sense their physical activity at one end of the building.

Turning my attention away from them, I search again for Bella. What I find overwhelms me.

She is not just a vague impression; she is not just one of many. She is a pulsating, glowing energy that fills my awareness, all my senses, and calls to the very essence of me. I feel a tug, a pull, and my mind rushes towards her, calling her name. I want to be with her and in her. I want to join that energy, and bask in the strength I find there.

"Edward," I hear her call to me – but I don't know if it is in my mind, or if she has spoken aloud.

"Edward!" This time I hear her, and feel her hand touch my cheek.

"Edward!" she calls again.

My eyes snap open to find her staring at me. For the first time, I'm aware of how deep a green her eyes are; they almost glitter in the moonlight, as she watches me closely.

"That was you, wasn't it?" she finally asks, interrupting the silence. "I felt you in my mind."

All I manage to do is nod, still overcome by the wonder of her.

For a long time, we can only stare at each other. Each of us trying to understand what has just happened.

"How could you feel me?" I finally manage to ask.

Bella shakes her head slightly. "I don't know for sure. Your gift, maybe… or our… connection? I hope so," she smiles softly. "It will get stronger, I think. Especially when we… " Here she stops, a faint blush on her cheeks as she quickly glances away.

"When we what, Bella?" I know what she means, but I want to hear her say it.

She doesn't, though, refusing to meet my gaze as she looks briefly around the room. "It's late, Edward. We need to get back to sleep. I think your sister is probably going to be waiting for you bright and early tomorrow morning. She's already claimed your attention for the day," she chuckles, trying to change the subject.

I know what she is trying to do, but I refuse to be distracted. "No, Bella, I need for you to tell me now. Our connection will get stronger when we what? When we are finally together? When you let me make love to you?"

She still won't look at me, so I cup her cheek with my hand and gently move her head until she has to meet my gaze. "Tell me, Bella. I need to know."

"Yes," she finally admits. "When we have sex, our bond will strengthen."

"And when is that going to happen?" My question catches her off guard, and I watch as she struggles to answer me. She's hiding something; something I have not been told yet. A sense of betrayal, of being manipulated again, washes over me in an instant – and I'm filled with both anger and sadness that Bella seems to be part of whatever secrets are still being kept from me.

"Bella, tell me… please. Why didn't you come to the socials?"

" I… I… " she begins stuttering, glancing away in panic. "I couldn't come. I told you… "

"I know what you said, Bella," I interrupt. "But you haven't told me anything. There have only been vague hints about orders and reasons why you weren't there." Shifting about in the bed, I sit up, propping some pillows behind me, and turn on the bedside lamp so that I can see her more clearly. Its warm glow lights up the room, allowing me to watch her face as she reacts to my questions.

"Tell me… tell me what could have been so important, so necessary, that you would have to leave the valley and me. Explain to me why, if you cared so much for me, you were willing to disappear – with no word, no message, and nothing to let me know you were even all right, or where you were!"

I realize I'm yelling by the time I've finished talking, spitting my words at her in frustration and anger. Taking in a deep breath, I slowly breathe out, trying to relax and control myself as I watch a myriad of emotions cross her face.

Bella sits up then, folding her legs in front of her as she faces me. "I tried to tell them, Edward. I really did," she pleads. "I argued that they should just let me tell you the truth, that you would understand… but they said no! They said your ability needed to manifest itself first; that it was too dangerous for you to know the truth, if your gift never developed." Her voice is full of frustration and anger as she continues. "And now, look what has happened – you're upset, doubting me and our feelings for each other!"

Her words make absolutely no sense to me. As I stare back at her in bewilderment, her shoulders sag… and a look of resignation replaces the the anger on her face.

"Edward," she sighs. "I couldn't come to you, I couldn't be with you, because I couldn't take the chance of becoming pregnant."

Of all the words Bella could have said to me – of all the mysterious excuses she could have offered for her absence – I never would have considered or believed what she has just told me. Her answer contradicts all our customs and beliefs, all our accepted social behaviors. Her pregnancy concern refutes even the most fundamental basics we were taught in all our biology classes.

"I… What… ?" I manage to stutter. "But that's impossible. That's not true! Why would you say something like that? Women are not permitted to have children until after marriage, and marriage only happens after the man has completed his active duty and musters out."

"I know that, Edward. I know that is the custom in our valley; but do you know _why_? Do you know _how_ we prevent pregnancy until _after_ marriage? What did they teach you in your classes?

Her questions make me stop and think.

We were twelve, and just entering puberty, when the explanation of sex and reproduction was added to our biology classes. I can clearly remember the trainers telling us that fatherhood was one of the rewards of completing our service to our society. As long as we were under oath, our first priority was to protect and serve. Mustering out meant we were free to chose a wife and to start a family, because we could then concentrate all our time and energy on our spouse, our children, and our home life. But even before that time came to pass, sex was still regarded as an important part of approaching adulthood, and as a way to learn to form bonds between male and female. During that time and until marriage, women used an herb-based medicine to prevent pregnancy.

Bella is watching me closely when I glance back at her. "We were taught that women took a form of birth control until after they married, and were ready to start a family."

"Yes," she nods. "That's what we did for a long time. But many years ago, the doctors and scientists noticed that fewer and fewer children were being born. When they began running tests and studying the problem, they realized that over the course of many generations, the medicine was having a cumulative effect – and more and more women were incapable of conceiving. When the birth control was stopped, the problem gradually resolved itself; and, eventually, most women were able to have children again."

"I still don't understand how… "

"Edward," she interrupts. "Even though the population had declined, it was still important to be able to control the number of births, since our valley can only support a finite number of people. No one wanted a repeat of what had happened to our world when the population exceeded the ability of the land to sustain it; so, another form of birth control needed to be developed and doctors eventually found a formula that could be given to men instead, without any lasting side effects, because of the rapid replacement of sperm in the body."

"Are you saying that men are now taking the birth control, not the women?" I ask.

"Yes… " Bella slowly answers. Her eyes carefully roam my face searching for any reaction. "Six months before the Eighteeners take their Oath, the formula is added to their food. Then, once a month, almost every active Protector receives a dose of the medicine. When they muster out and marry, and are no longer eating in the mess hall, they stop taking the medicine and the effect reverses itself within a few months."

"Then if I'm taking the medication, how could you get pregnant?" I ask. "Your explanation still doesn't make any sense to me."

"Not all the Protectors can take the formula, Edward… and you happen to be one of those who cannot."

When she stops talking and adds nothing to her explanation, I sigh in exasperation. "Bella, you need to tell me everything – including all the details you seem to want to leave out. Now: why can I not take the formula?"

"Because you have a gift, an ability," she finally answers. "Years ago, they discovered that the medicine had one unfortunate side effect: taking the formula halted the development of any special abilities that the Protector might naturally have. At first, that was welcomed; mainly because it meant we no longer had to worry about someone like Avaro challenging the system and trying to seize control. But later, when things changed and the environment continued to deteriorate, we realized that many of those related abilities were still needed, and could be honed to help our society. So, as a change in protocol, any cadets who exhibited signs of a gift were quietly excluded from receiving the formula. After their abilities developed, the truth about our history and the Protector program was explained to them; at that time, they were also told about the birth control, and their options were discussed."

"Do you… do you understand what I'm trying to explain, Edward?"

I know she is waiting for my response when she stops talking; but – once again – I am just struck by the multitude of things that have been kept from me. Her constant use of the word _'we'_ also nags at me. It's the same ' _we_ ' that Hunter kept using and never explained. The same ' _we_ ' that Mother has also used. Somewhere, there is a mysterious group of _someones_ who know all these things, but choose to keep them secret for some reason. A reason I am determined to find out.

First, however, I need to learn more about what she has just revealed.

"What do you mean by options?" I ask.

"Under normal circumstances, the woman you had favored could start taking the original medication for birth control. It's been so long since it was used, that it no longer has a cumulative effect if taken for only a few years."

Bella glances down at her lap, playing with the the edge of a blanket that she pulls up and over her shoulders. Once again, she seems reluctant to add any details to her explanation.

"But these are not 'normal circumstances' are they?" I ask, watching her closely when she finally looks up at me. "Because you can't take the old medicine, can you?"

She shakes her head no, smiling at me sadly.

"Because you have a gift… and taking the birth control would affect it, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," she finally admits. "And right now, my gift is important to the community. So until things change, you and I cannot be together in that way, because I absolutely cannot take the risk of becoming pregnant. We're not really sure how it would affect an unborn child when I have to use my ability."

Her eyes fill with unshed tears and she turns away from me, clenching her jaw to try to control her emotions.

"I'm sorry, Edward," she finally whispers, after I'm silent for some time, internally mulling over all she has revealed. "Perhaps… " she continues, facing me again.

I interrupt her before she can say anything else – because I know, once again, that she is not telling me everything.

"Bella," I sigh, watching closely for her reaction. "What would have happened if I had invited someone else to spend a social night with me?"

My question surprises her; and for a moment, her face is filled with hurt, before she quickly turns away from me.

"Is that what you wished you had done, Edward?" she asks. "Is that what you wanted?"

"Just answer the question, Bella, please. If I had asked someone, would they have gone to my room with me?"

She sighs heavily, before turning back to me. "There are several single women who are unable to have children, and, had you invited one of them, they might have accepted your invitation. But, had you asked anyone else, they would have told you no."

Her voice is a bit petulant, and she quickly turns away, not wanting me to see the slight pout she's trying to hide.

I know I've upset her with my question, but her answer has told me more than I think she realizes – not the least of which is that she's just a bit jealous that I would consider asking someone else. I can't help but provoke her a bit more.

"They ' _might_ ' have accepted my invitation?"

"Yes," she huffs, refusing to look at me when I speak. "You probably don't know this, but it's actually considered an honor among the women to spend the Oath Night with a newly sworn Protector. There are at least a couple who have always favored you, who would have said yes to your invitation. All the rest of the women know of, and accept, our connection – so they would have told you no, out of respect for my feelings."

"But not those two, huh?" I ask, smirking at her when she looks at me in surprise.

She rolls her eyes, giggling slightly at my question. "No," she sighs. "Those two would have jumped at the chance to have you, just so they could have bragged about it the next day."

"Oh, they sound eager. Maybe I should ask for their names when I go back to the valley."

The look of fury on her face as she shouts 'No!' sends me into a fit of laughter that she desperately tries to ignore; but before long, she is chuckling along with me. "Not funny, Edward," she admonishes me, shaking her head as I continue to smirk at the look on her face.

Finally, we are both quiet, watching each other intently as our mood sobers.

"Bella… "

"Yes… "

"Come here, please." I open my arms and legs and, after hesitating a moment, she crawls over to me; settling her back against my chest, and resting her head under my chin. I pull the blankets up over us before wrapping my arms around her. We sit that way for awhile, enjoying the warmth of each other. Planting a light kiss on the top of her head, I begin to speak.

"You need to know this: that although I was disappointed and didn't want to spend my Oath Night alone, there was no one else that I wanted that night – or any other night. It did cross my mind once or twice, when I watched my friends leave with their chosen companion, that perhaps I could have asked someone. But it's always been you, Bella. It's only ever been you. Even in some of my earliest memories, you are there. I didn't want someone else. I only wanted you."

She tips her head back to look at me; her eyes shiny with joy, her smile wistful with happiness. When she opens her mouth to speak, I stop her with an upraised hand.

"Earlier we talked about options and normal circumstances; but you and I don't have options, though, do we, Bella? And nothing about this situation could be considered normal, could it?"

Her expressions change then. The joy replaced with regret, the happiness with resignation.

"No, there are no other options for us, Edward," she finally admits, reluctantly. "And you are right, that there is nothing normal about our situation."

"I'm sorry, my love," she whispers, scooting away before turning around to face me. "You and I don't have the luxury of having other choices. There is only one option open for us, and we need each other if we are going to have a chance to complete it successfully."

I stare at her beautiful face, so dear and so precious to me. I consider all the things we have discussed, and all the things I have learned about her. And then I remember how spectacular she was when I touched her with my mind. Reaching out, I run my fingers through her hair, soothing the sleep tangles there. "Well then, I'm sorry too, my love," echoing her words, before smiling at the slight frown on her face. "But it looks like you are stuck with me. For better or for worse, whatever happens, it's the two of us together. Right?"

"Yes," she chuckles softly, when I reach out and pull her back into my embrace. "Together."

I hold her against me for several long moments, trying to decide how to ask the questions that I need answered. "Bella," I finally whisper.

"Uhm?" she yawns.

"There are a lot of things I haven't been told yet. Aren't there?"

Her body stills at my question before she nods silently.

"And will you answer all my questions and tell me what I want to know?"

"Bella… ?" I prod when she doesn't answer. "If we are a team, if we are in this together, I have to be able to trust you."

Taking my hand in hers, Bella places it over her heart, tipping her head back slightly to look at me. "I promise you, Edward. I promise you that I will tell you and explain to you, everything that I am allowed to share. And I will be beside you and support you when everything else is explained."

The truth is written on her face; so I smile at her, and nod in acceptance.

"And this I will also promise you, Edward," she continues. "I promise that someday, when this is all over, we'll have everything we've ever dreamed of, everything we've ever wanted. We'll be together – and we'll be happy, Edward. I know we will."

Bella leans back against me again, still holding my hand in hers. She turns it palm up, her fingers lightly tracing the faint scar left from my Oath Taking Ceremony.

"Months ago you took an Oath, Edward. You made a promise to me and all the people of our valley. So today I make a promise to you – a promise for love, and happiness, and for dreams coming true. That's my promise; that's the Oath I pledge to you."

.

.

Nothing more is said or needs to be said between the two of us. Moving the pillows from behind my back, I place one beside me for Bella, and we both scoot back down in the bed, while I tuck the blankets around us to keep us warm.

And then, for the second time in my life, I fall asleep holding the woman I love in my arms.

.

.

.

AN: Thank you to my readers who waited patiently for these last two updates. Bellebiter and I are still dealing with a number of medical and family issues in real life, and I appreciate the supportive messages from so many of you. I also want to sincerely thank all of you who voted for me in the Twific Fandom Awards for newbie author. I was amazed and thrilled to have made it into the second round of voting, something I never seriously considered. Thank you again! And finally, as always, thank you to my beta, Bellebiter, who cleans up my horrendous punctuation while encouraging me to find the inner poet hiding somewhere within me. Your belief in me is precious beyond words.


	24. Chapter 24

The Protector

Chapter 24

EPOV

Just as Bella predicted, Alice was waiting for me when I exited my room the next morning. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall opposite my door – then jumping to her feet when she saw me, a huge smile lighting up her face.

A smile that gradually melted away when she saw the scowling frown on my own face.

Movement had awakened me earlier that morning, when Bella tried to slip out of bed without me knowing. I watched her out of one barely-opened eye as she tip-toed around the room, quietly trying to find her shoes that had been tossed onto the floor the day before. When she came within reach, I suddenly grabbed her hand – making her jump and squeal in surprise. "Edward!" she admonished, when I laughed at her.

"Where are you sneaking off to, so early in the morning?" I asked.

"Well, unlike some people," she huffed, eyeing me sprawled out on the bed, "I have work to do… and can't lounge around in bed for another day," she teased.

"Ah, please," I begged, pulling her towards me and sitting up on the edge of the bed. "We could work on our 'connection' again," I whispered, as I wrapped my arms around her when she stepped in-between my open legs. I lay my head against her warm body, sighing when she began running her hands over my shoulders and massaging my neck with her strong hands. "You know you want to, love. Just a little while?" I pleaded again.

"Oh, Edward," she moaned. "You know I want to stay… "

Bella had leaned over then, laying a line of small, tickling kisses along my neck before whispering in my ear. "I really, _really_ want to but… _you stink_!" she laughed, jumping back away from me and breaking loose from my hold. "Go take a shower, wash your hair, and put on some clean clothes, love. I'm sure I'll see you later today."

And with that, she had made her way to the door, laughing even harder when I stood up and she caught sight of the obvious bulge in my sleep pants. "You'll pay for that, little tease," I shouted after her, as she stepped out of the room.

Peeking back into the room, she smiled broadly at me. "Oh, I really hope so!" she smirked, before heading away down the corridor.

One look in the mirror confirmed what Bella had said. I _did_ need a shower; my hair was oily and stuck to my head, I was still dressed in the clothes from the hospital room almost three days before, and my teeth and mouth desperately needed cleaning.

So, I allowed myself a very long shower; thoroughly scrubbing my body and hair, then taking the time to shave and try to tame the unruly mess of my too-long hair. I was pleasantly surprised at how good I felt. For the first time since the Fanger bite, I was strong and rested – without pain in my hand – or anywhere else, for that matter. All the swelling was gone, and, after flexing it a bit, my grip seemed only a bit weaker. I hoped all my strength and dexterity would return with time, and that my ability to use my weapons would not be impaired.

Although the shower had been relaxing and my body certainly enjoyed the hot water, I had not been able to shut down my thoughts; everything Bella had revealed to me repeated itself, over and over in my mind.

I could not get past the realization that for an unknown number of years, someone had been secretly slipping medication into the Protectors' food. And, when I analyzed her other statements about some of the women who could not have children accepting my invitation – and others telling me 'no' out of respect for our connection – I could only reach one logical conclusion: that every woman in the valley had to know about the birth control; and, therefore, they all had to know not only about my abilities, but also the history of our valley's founding, the real purpose of the Protector Program, and the truth of the Thaay.

I had been shaving when the pieces began fitting into place, the missing details finally beginning to connect and make sense. I stared into the mirror, disbelief on my face as I struggled with what I knew had to be the truth – but which I could not bring myself to accept. Remembering Rose's strange look and words from the last social merely confirmed my new-found conviction: I was correct in thinking Rose had known what was going on with Emmett.

They _all_ knew.

Every woman I came in contact with – from Kate, to the other Matrons; from Rose, to Bella, and the other women at the socials; and finally to my own mother – all of them knew the truth!

And if all the women knew, did the men, as well? Jasper and Hunter were Rangers; so, according to what Bella had explained, they would have been told. Since Father was here in the settlement, he obviously knew everything, too.

Was it possible that everyone in the valley, except the active Protectors, were aware of this? Were we just some kind of joke to the people whom we had pledged to protect and serve? Did they smile smugly while we slept in our barracks rooms and ate at our tables, oblivious to their manipulations?

White hot anger, the likes of which I had never felt against any foe before, flashed through me. I felt betrayed, humiliated and manipulated. My hands were shaking so badly that I could no longer hold the blade steady to finish shaving. Discarding it on the counter, I rinsed my face in the sink, then grabbed a towel to dry off with.

When I glanced up into the mirror, I was stunned at the face that I saw there. I looked beyond angry; rage twisted my features, and my eyes blazed with indignation. I looked older, determined and infuriated.

The visage of an enraged warrior stared back at me.

Yet even as my fury flared – and my mind ranted and raged at the scenarios it imagined – a quieter, barely calmer part of me urged patience. I _was_ a warrior: a well-trained and disciplined Protector, who had been taught to use logic and reasoning to assess a situation. I knew that Bella, my parents, my siblings, and even the citizens of my valley were all good people. For the entire population to conceal a secret of this magnitude over so many years would have been almost impossible.

I also had to acknowledge that everything that had been revealed to me so far had been kept secret for very good reasons. Reasons that I could not find fault with.

That did not mean that I would accept being kept in the dark any longer.

It was time for the truth. _All_ the truth!

And so, with this resolution, I had thrown on some clothes this morning – quickly exiting my room, and determined to demand answers from my mother – only to be met by my little sister waiting outside my door, with her big happy smile at seeing me.

The smile that I now watch slowly fade, as she takes in the anger on my face.

"Edward… " she squeaks, gazing up at me. "Are you alright? Do you want me to leave you alone?"

Since leaving the hospital, I have spent time with my mother, with Jasper, and most of a day and all night with Bella; but, except for two meals – during which I mostly ignored her – I've not spent any time with Alice. Yet here she is, in spite of my earlier dismissal, still excited to see me recovered and on my feet, still eager to spend time with her older brother – who is now towering over her, with a look full of so much anger that it is scaring her.

For just a moment, I want to brush past her and ignore the hope in her face, focusing instead on finding my mother – and venting my suspicions and frustrations on the one person whom, I felt, had all the answers; but a closer look at Alice's frightened eyes, and all those thoughts disappear.

I immediately feel guilty.

As I take a deep breath to steady myself, I realize that everything except Alice can wait. Explanations and reasons; overall truths and small details; rage and frustrations; accusations and manipulations… none of these are as important as the young girl who stands in front of me.

So, taking another deep breath, I smile down at her, grab her hand and exclaim, "Alice, my pretty little sister, I can't think of anyone I would rather see today because I am absolutely starving. Please lead me to some food before my stomach starts growling loud enough to embarrass us both."

And then, as if on cue, it does just that – letting out a growl so loud that we both laugh our way down the hallway.

The dining room is empty when we enter; but Alice pulls me across the room and through the open doors of the kitchen, where several people are still working. None of them are from our valley, and I hesitate briefly before following Alice into the workspace. "This is my brother, Edward," she announces happily. "And he's really hungry," she explains, before introducing me to the men and women who seem friendly and eager to meet me.

I watch as Alice interacts with the people in the room. It is plain to see that she is a favorite with them. She laughs and teases and giggles her way around the kitchen, gathering up the ingredients for the 'breakfast feast' that she intends to prepare for me. They, in turn, treat her like their own daughter, bragging on her cooking skills and even lovingly wiping some stray flour from her cheek. It occurs to me that she and Jared are the youngest people here; and I wonder, briefly, why there are no younger children.

Before long, I find myself seated at a work counter facing a plateful of eggs, bacon, and something Alice calls pancakes. She proudly helped one of the cooks make them by showing me how to pour the batter onto a hot griddle, and then flip them to cook on the other side when they browned. She's topped them with a generous amount of honey thick with dried berries. They are delicious, and I don't have to exaggerate when I tell her it is the best breakfast I have ever eaten.

She blushes at my praise, her pleasure at my words so radiant that it lights up her whole face, and I'm instantly thankful I decided to forgo my previous plans and spend the morning with her instead.

The second I finish, she grabs my hand and immediately leads me down a different corridor – all the while explaining that she has a surprise for me, and that I will get to see where she is assigned to work that week.

When we open the door at the very end of hallway, I step into a space so completely different than anything I have ever seen before that I cannot – at first glance – understand what I am seeing. Another clear dome, much like the one over the dining room, covers the room; but there all similarities end.

This room is a riot of green.

Everywhere I look, there are growing plants; I can even see the tops of small trees around the outer perimeter of the room. The rest of the domed space is overflowing with shelves, and tables, and long double-sided walls… some that extend higher than my head… and everything is covered in green.

Sunlight streams into the room, and the air is redolent with the rich scent of growing plants – a combination of fertile soil, sweet blooms, tangy herbs, and the mineral water used to sustain them. Humidity and warmth, combined with that scent, have me breathing in great gulps of air.

I turn to find Alice giggling at the look on my face, as I move in circles trying to absorb the sight before me. "What is this place?" I ask in wonder.

"We call it a greenhouse," she grins. "It's a house for plants! Isn't it wonderful, Edward?"

"Yes… yes, it truly is," I nod, still trying to understand what I am seeing. "What is it used for, though?"

"This is where we grow all the fresh food that is eaten here in the settlement."

I examine the room again, taking in the amount of plants I see growing, then mentally comparing them to the number of people I know are living here. Alice's statement just doesn't add up, and I turn back to her, cocking an eyebrow at her smirking face.

"Alice… ? You know that can't be true. This room is not big enough; there are too many people here, and it takes much too long to grow that amount of food. What are you hiding from me?"

My question sends her into another fit of giggling; but my patience is beginning to wear thin. "Alice!"

The tone of my voice stops her laughing, and she apologizes sheepishly.

"It's true, though, Edward, and it's almost like… like magic. I'll show you. But it's part of the surprise, and everything isn't ready yet."

"Okay," I nod, deciding it might be time to change the subject. "You told me you worked here. Can you show me what you do?"

I'm rewarded with another big smile as she takes my hand again, leading me over to a table that contains several trays filled with soil, crowded with small green plants about three inches tall.

"These are greens that will be harvested for the salad that is planned for lunch tomorrow," she explains. "My job is to transplant them from this seed tray to the growing wall over there," she says, nodding towards one of the thick walls I had noticed earlier.

"Here," she says, handing me the tray. "You can help me."

The wall Alice leads me to is as thick as my forearm, and approximately five feet tall and five feet wide; it is covered in open holes about the size of my fist. They are spaced approximately six inches apart, and – when I examine one – I'm surprised to see it is filled with dirt. Using a small spoon-like object, Alice scoops up a tiny seedling and carefully plants it in one of the holes.

I watch Alice as she concentrates on her task. She handles each plant with exactness, making sure it is placed correctly in the opening while pressing the soil around it, to ensure its stability. As she works, my thoughts wander to my morning's determination to find out the truth about the women in my community. I decide to ask Alice a few leading questions, to see what she can reveal to me.

"Alice… "

"Yes," she answers absentmindedly, still concentrating on her task.

"Is this the first time you've been to this place? Did you know that this settlement existed?"

"No," she answers, shaking her head before scooping up another seedling. "Mother never told me anything about this place. I was really surprised when we got here!"

I watch her face closely as she continues her planting, and I press on with my next question. "I guess you were just as surprised to see Jasper then, too?"

"Oh, Edward," she exclaims, when she turns to face me. "That was _the_ best surprise! When Bella led me through that tunnel, I was just a little scared; and then we walked outside… and there was Jasper, leaning against the rover, waiting for us. I kept hugging him and crying, and hugging him and crying. I was just so happy to see him!"

There is nothing but joy on her face as she tells me about seeing Jasper. I can't find any deceit, or evidence that she is concealing something from me.

"So you really didn't know he was still alive?"

"No," she shakes her head, frowning. "I mean, I hoped he was okay, of course; but I didn't know. Did you know he was here?"

"No, I was just as surprised to see him as you were."

Alice resumes her planting, while I consider that she was every bit as uninformed as I was. If she didn't know about this place or Jasper, then she probably didn't know the truth about the Thaay – or about the birth control secrets. I'm almost tempted to go ahead and ask her – but then quickly shy away from having a conversation about sex with my thirteen-year-old sister, since I can't imagine how awkward that would be. Instead, I continue holding the tray silently, while Alice continues to plant.

She repeats the steps over and over, until all the openings on this side of the wall are full, before stepping around to the other side and beginning the same process again.

That is when I realize that not only are the plant openings filled with soil; but the hollow space between the two outside walls is filled with dirt as well. The roots of the plants can spread inward, towards the interior of the growing wall. It's an ingenious way to grow a large number of plants in a very compact space – but it still doesn't explain how they can mature enough to be harvested in time for lunch tomorrow.

Next, Alice hands me a large bucket of water and shows me how to slowly pour the liquid along the open top of the wall, so that it can gradually soak down to all the plants. It is while I am pouring the water into the wall that I notice a small bee land on the edge of the bucket. It crawls slowly along the lip, enjoying the moisture it finds there.

I'm watching it carefully, when I hear Alice whisper, "Oh, a bee! He must already be here, then."

At my questioning glance, she warns me to be quiet; and then, pulling me by my hand, she silently leads me through a maze of walls and tables and shelves until we reach the far side of the room. She peeks around the end of one of the walls, and turns back to me, smiling, before motioning that I should look for myself.

There are several beehives set up along the wall, and Father is standing in front of one of them. I'm not really surprised to see him here; but Alice squeezes my hand, and then shakes her head when I glance at her to say something.

Looking back, I watch him carefully open one side of an enclosure and place his hand inside the hive.

And then, he begins to talk to them.

I can't completely understand what he is saying; but his voice is soothing and restful as he murmurs to them. Slowly, calmly, the bees begin to leave their hive. They crawl along his arm, up over his shoulders, and down his other side… until his whole upper body, including his head, is covered in a living mass of bees.

Alice's grip on my hand is almost painful as we breathlessly watch our father slowly make his way over to another beehive, before placing his hand inside the empty box and – all the while continuing his reassuring whispers – gently urge the bees to enter the hive. They move collectively, flowing back over his shoulders and arm in an undulating wave of squirming bees. When they are all safely ensconced in the new beehive, he closes the door on them and walks over to the used box, removing the honey-laden trays before placing them in a carrying pan and turning to smile broadly at Alice and me.

"You knew we were here?" I ask, surprised that he had heard us. "We tried to stay quiet."

"Yes," he chuckles. "I didn't hear you, though. The bees told me we had an audience. They sensed your presence."

I stare at my father, unable to respond to what he has just disclosed to me. He smiles happily at me and chuckles softly. "There's a lot you don't know about your old man, Edward," he says, patting my shoulder with his hand. "I'm hoping we'll have time to change all that."

He turns to Alice then, and asks her if I've seen the rest of my surprise. When she shakes her head 'no,' he motions us away, explaining he isn't finished with the bees yet.

Once again, Alice leads me through a maze of growing plants. This time, we skirt the outer wall close enough for her to show me the fruit trees that are growing there in large pots. She also points out heavily-laden tomato and squash vines trailing up open lattices, and cucumbers ready to be picked.

As we near the opposite side of the room, Alice explains that the growing wall we are going to look at had been planted with carrots the day before and were almost ready to be harvested for dinner tonight. She smirks again at my skeptical glance – and then motions me to silence, while she quietly leads me around another corner.

The wall in front of us is taller, and nearly three times the length of the one Alice and I just planted. Each opening holds a feathery sprig of green about four inches tall. I've seen mature carrot plants before, and pulled my fair share during harvest time; I know these plants are far from ready to be eaten. Before I can confront Alice about her obvious mistake, she lays a finger on my lips, shaking her head to keep me from talking. Then she quietly mouths, "It's magic, Edward. Just watch."

Shaking my head at her silliness, I turn back to look at the wall. There is a sudden trembling of the plants, almost as if a slight breeze has moved over them; but I haven't felt anything, and, as I look around, I don't see any other movement.

Footsteps sound from the other side of the wall, and I'm surprised to see Bella walk around the end and stop there, facing it. I watch, fascinated, as she brings both hands up to touch the sides… and then closes her eyes. She stands there, motionless, her breathing gradually deepening and slowing.

There is a trembling in the plants again… and then… they begin to grow.

Before our eyes, we watch them emerge taller and thicker; the feathery fronds of new leaf-clumps unfurling faster than we can follow, until the whole wall is a dense layer of vibrant green stalks, stems, and leaf clusters, almost twelve inches tall. The tops of plump, robust orange carrots can be seen pushing up out of each opening.

Shocked, I turn my attention back to Bella. She is still breathing deeply and slowly, her eyes closed, forehead resting on the edge of the wall. There is a glow about her; a sense of immense power, that seems to radiate from her body. It is that same sense of raw power that I glimpsed on the rock formation during the Yipper attack. Even as I watch, however, it gradually dims… slowly fading away… until only her hands seem to be lit with a residual glow.

Opening her eyes, she slowly steps away from the wall and walks towards a small bench, tucked between two trees. She slumps down onto the seat, resting her head against the back. There is a tray with food and drink beside her, and she reaches over with shaking hands to pick up a large mug, gulping the contents quickly before devouring the bread and cheese.

Sighing, she closes her eyes, and leans her head against the backrest again.

Alice's grip on my arm tightens as I start to move towards Bella. Once again, she shakes her head no, urging me to stay quiet and watch.

After resting for a couple more minutes, Bella stands and walks over to a nearby table covered with wide, shallow trays filled with damp soil. Smiling slightly to herself, she holds a hand out over the trays and walks slowly around the table, murmuring softly. This time, I watch her hand begin to glow as she sweeps it back and forth over the containers.

On her second trip around the table, the soil begins to move, and I watch – astonished again – as hundreds of tiny seedlings push their way upwards… out of the dark dirt, and tilting towards the welcoming light. The stems quiver and shake as the small new leaves uncurl. When they are about three inches tall, Bella stops.

Smiling, she turns to us – and announces with a slight laugh that the magic show is over. Then, nodding towards the table, she tells Alice that she has a lot of planting that needs to be done.

I watch as Bella and Alice calmly discuss the contents of the different trays, their intended use, and where each vegetable should be planted. They act as though what has just happened is a normal, ordinary, daily occurrence. Perhaps it is for them; but watching this dramatic display of Bella's gift has left me speechless, and more than a little stunned.

When Alice picks up a tray and begins to leave, I manage to offer my help again; but she just tells me that she can handle it, and to go take care of Bella – before laughing at my still dazed face and skipping away towards an empty wall.

Bella and I watch her leave, both of us smiling at her enthusiasm.

"I love your sister," Bella grins. "She's so… " She shrugs her shoulders, gesturing hopelessly with her hands when she can't find words to describe Alice.

"I know," I laugh. "I can't find the right words to describe her, either. Come on," I add. "I think you need to rest awhile."

When we reach the bench, I sit at one end, motioning Bella to join me. Instead of sitting, however, she lies down on her side, pulling her knees into her chest, and resting her head in my lap.

"Is this alright?"

"Of course," I reply, settling her head more comfortably on my thigh.

Bella's eyes close, and her breathing deepens as she rests quietly beside me. "I just need a few minutes," she whispers.

I let her rest, running my fingers soothingly through her soft hair, trying to think of the right words to tell her how impressed I am with her gift, and with her dedication to using it for the people here in the settlement.

"That was… ah… pretty amazing," I finally say, mentally cringing at how ineffective my words sound.

"Just like magic," she chuckles. "I'm glad you came with Alice today; she was so excited to show you."

"Me too. She's hard to say 'no' to."

I can feel Bella's smile as she nods in agreement. Minutes tick by while I let her rest, thinking of all the questions I want to ask.

"How long… Uhm… How old were you when you realized you could make plants grow?

Bella shifts around, so that her back is on the bench and she can look up to see my face. "I don't really _make_ them grow," she explains. "All living things have a kind of energy that I can feel, if I focus on them. The plants are already growing; I just _push_ them to make them grow faster. It's like giving them an extra boost of energy."

Her words remind me of her help with my shield, when we were trying to escape the Yippers. "That's what you did in the Wastelands, wasn't it? You gave me a boost of energy."

"Yes. It was a much bigger _boost,_ though, than what I do with the plants," she confesses. "You were… you were starting to fade, Edward. I could feel your life energy slipping away from you. I would have done anything… " she whispers, staring up at me. "Anything to make sure you survived."

For long moments we just gaze at each other… absorbing the meaning of her declaration, and its implication to both of us. Eventually, Bella looks away from me, and, clearing her throat, continues her explanation.

"I was young; really young, I guess. One day, I was playing in the backyard when I noticed there was a flower that was wilted and drooped over. I remember feeling sorry for it, and I touched it, trying to get it to stand up. The stem straightened, and the flower bloomed and grew bigger. Mother saw what happened, and hurried me into the house."

I can't stop the soft breath that escapes me when I imagine Bella as a small girl trying to heal the dying flower. Briefly, I picture her as a young woman caring for the trees in the valley orchards. I'm sure this is another reason why she chose this as her work assignment.

"After that day," she continues, "Mother began teaching me how to focus and control the power. She also taught me how to hide my gift, until it was safe for me to use it."

"Your mother, she could sense the life energy in living things and help them grow, too?"

"Yes, she was gifted as well," she whispers sadly. A single tear escapes the corner of Bella's eye, and trickles slowly across her cheek. I know she is thinking about her parents… and the accident that had taken their lives, just two years before. Everyone in the valley had attended their memorial service, watching as Renee and Charlie's names were chiseled into the city wall.

"I'm sorry, love. I know you must miss them."

"I do," she answers sadly, before shifting around until her face is pressed against my abdomen. My hand is rubbing soothing circles along her shoulders and down her spine. I'm loath to interrupt this moment we have together, especially when I hear her sigh in pleasure; but the determination to finally have all my questions answered overrides my hesitation.

"Bella… "

"Uhm… "

"I have some questions I need answered, and I think it's time we talked about them."

For a moment, I don't think she is going to say anything; but then, she slowly sits up, and angles her body so she is facing me.

"You're right, Edward," she smiles sadly. "I promised you I would tell you everything I am allowed to share. Ask those questions now, love, and I'll explain what I can."

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AN: Thank you to everyone who took the time to vote for me in the Newbie Author category of the Twific Fandom Awards. I placed second, and I am very honored that you enjoyed my work enough to consider me. Thank you to my amazing beta, Bellebiter, I couldn't do this without you!


	25. Chapter 25

AN: Thank you for waiting patiently for this chapter. Many things going on in my real life, including a three week vacation to Oregon and Hawaii with my husband to celebrate our fiftieth wedding anniversary! For some reason, I found it very hard to get any writing done. As always, no copyright infringement is intended. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

Thank you, Bellebiter, for your unflagging support, and for the hours of editing that went into this chapter. I can never express, with words, just how much your encouragement means to me.

All remaining mistakes are mine.

Here's a short recap from chapter 24: _After spending an afternoon and night with Bella, Edward wakes up ready to confront his mother about many things he suspects to be true; only to find his sister, Alice, waiting for him outside his room. He decides, instead, to spend some time with her, and – after accompanying her to a greenhouse – discovers the very special gift that Bella possesses._

The Protector

Chapter 25

EPOV

"I need to understand: how many of the women in our valley know about the birth control being given to the men?"

Even though I have my suspicions, when Bella answers me, I'm still stunned as her words confirm my unwilling realization.

"All of them, Edward. Every woman in our valley, seventeen years and older, knows about the birth control."

"And they know the reasons behind it? The abilities that some of us have, and how the medication affects us?" I prompt her urgently, angrily, the second she stops speaking.

She nods her head reluctantly. "Yes, they know."

Her short answers are beginning to irritate me, and I move away from her on the bench so that I can watch her face as I turn towards her. I need to hear the details, the _specifics_ of what the women actually know. Taking a deep breath, I resume questioning her.

"Bella, do the women know about Jasper, and what he can do? Do they understand about my shield, and my own abilities? Do they know about the Thaay, this settlement, and our history? No more half-answers, please! I need to know details. I need to know everything!"

I watch her squirm uncomfortably on the bench, her eyes flicking briefly to mine as she seems to gather her thoughts. I won't let her avoid my questioning, however.

"Tell me now," I order. "What do the women know?" I demand, pausing between each word for emphasis.

Her jaw tightens in a slight grimace before she turns towards me, her eyes full of resolve. "All of it, Edward. The women know everything. They know the truth about the Thaay. They know the truth about our history, about Avaro, Elizabeth and Ares. They know about this settlement, and the reasons for the Protector program."

Her eyes roam my face, watching for my reaction as she reinforces, once again, what I already knew had to be true. I smother my growing sense of unease, willing my face to remain impassive so that she will continue to explain.

"They've been informed about Jasper, and what he can do; and about why he couldn't take the birth control medication, and how that affects his choices at the socials. They know about your abilities. They understand why it was – why it _is_ – so important to our society that your gifts be developed and strengthened. The women were all told that you couldn't take the medication because of those abilities. And they… " she hesitates, gazing at her clenched hands in her lap before glancing up at me again.

I watch emotions flicker across her face until a pleading, almost remorseful look settles on her features. I know that she doesn't want to tell me what she is about to say; but the time for vague answers is over. So I nod at her to continue.

"They were all – except for the very few who are unable to have children – ordered not to accept your invitation, should you invite them to your room." Her voice is barely a whisper when she finishes speaking.

Her words hit me like an unexpected blow to my abdomen, making me double over and turn away from her in disgust. "You… You talked about me? You discussed me like I was a _thing_ , a freak to be avoided?" I finally gasp out.

"No, Edward, no. It wasn't like that at all," she tries to explain; but I wave her off, telling her to just finish, to tell me the rest of what I need to know.

"Everything you've learned over the past three days," she finally continues with a tired sigh, "the women of our valley know and understand. They also understand the pressures you've lived under for the last three months, and the sacrifices they've asked… and are still asking… of you. And of me."

When I turn back to face Bella, I can see the worry in her eyes as she speaks. Her concern for me is written all over her face; but that doesn't stop the rush of humiliation I feel at the loss of my personal privacy, or the rage I feel at being the topic of their conversations. Even the conciliatory, almost resigned tone of her last sentence does little to stem the anger that is bubbling inside me.

The weight of her words cascades over me, and I can no longer sit still on the bench. I'm up and pacing the floor in front of her, even before she finishes speaking.

"And the men," I demand, stopping to face her. "How many of the men know the truth?"

"The Rangers have always been told the truth – so, Hunter, Jasper and you. Your father, of course; but from what I understand, none of the rest of the men in the valley know anything." She pauses. "Although I wouldn't be surprised if some of the older men suspect something." She shrugs her shoulders, shaking her head as she continues. "I haven't been told everything, Edward. I don't make any of the decisions. Like everyone else, I just have my orders to follow."

Bella watches me warily as I resume my pacing. Knowing I was correct in my assumptions does nothing to curb my growing frustrations, even though I am slightly relieved to know that most of the men of the valley aren't part of this deception. Questions race through my mind, and all the things I need to ask clog my thoughts before I finally settle on what I want to know next.

"When… ?" I demand again, looming over her as I stop to stand in front of her. "When were you told, Bella? How old were you when you were told the truth?"

"I was seventeen," she answers, looking up at me. "I don't know how much you know about the ceremonies that our women have. Like your Oath Taking to become a Protector, the women have ceremonies that mark our entrance into the adult world; but unlike your very public one, ours are done in secret, with only other women in attendance."

"It's held a few months prior to the Oath Night social, before we are presented to the community as adult women. Part of the ceremony includes learning about the birth control… and the reasons behind it." Her voice has dropped to almost a whisper as she watches me carefully. I know she can see the anger building in me.

"So you knew… you _knew_ from your very first social that you and I would never spend the night together, that we would never be able to consummate our growing attraction to each other! That instead, you would just… _disappear_ from the valley, as soon as I became a Protector!" I spit the words at her, rage making my voice shake with the emotions I'm feeling.

Bella's face is full of regret as she finally nods yes. Frustrated, I turn from her, walking away to put some distance between us, before rounding on her once again.

"And knowing all of this, you still met me at every social night for a year. Talking… and dancing… and making me want you; making me _long_ for the time when we could finally be together. Leading me on, while making sure I didn't look at anyone else… "

I've given up trying to control my anger, letting the spiteful words pour from my mouth. I can't seem to stop myself as I continue. "Did you laugh, Bella? Did you and your friends go back to your rooms and laugh at poor, besotted, misled Edward, who had no clue what was really going on?"

"No, Edward!" she yells, standing to defend herself. "It wasn't like that at all. I couldn't stay away from you. I _needed_ to be there because I cared for you… and knowing that I would have to leave when you took your Oath was one of the hardest things I've ever had to face."

"My parents were gone, and Riley was the only family I had left – though I didn't get to see him that often, and I only saw you at the socials. I was so lonely and unhappy, Edward! My friends helped, of course; Rose has always been there for me, and your mother was wonderful. But it was _you_ I needed. It was _you_ I wanted to see each month. Those evenings spent with you made all the tough choices I knew we would have to face in the future worthwhile.

"Please, Edward," she begs, reaching out to touch my arm. "I know you're hurt and angry, and I know this is all upsetting to you; but there are reasons – important reasons – for all the decisions that have been made about our future. Even though we may not have been consulted about them," she huffs in exasperation.

"Remember last night? Remember when I promised you that we will be happy one day?" she continues. "Just a little more time, please. Just a little more patience."

Her words shame me, as my anger is almost instantly joined by remorse. We had never discussed Charles and Renee's deaths during any of our evenings together; she had always seemed so excited to see me, so happy to be around Emmett and Rose, and to spend time with her friends. I never suspected that she was also lonely, or missing her parents so much.

On top of this regret, I now begin to realize how very little I know about the personal lives of the women in our valley. Beyond the obvious day-to-day schooling and work rotations, I've never really thought about their ceremonies or traditions; my thoughts have always been centered on myself and my training.

I've been oblivious to many, many things.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm so sorry." Taking her hand, I lead her back to the bench where we both sit. "You always seemed so happy… I should have realized you were still missing your parents; but you never mentioned them, never acted as if anything was bothering you."

"Oh, Edward," she shrugs. "You know how our society frowns on any display of emotion. If I had said or done anything to show you how I was feeling, you would have tried to comfort me… and then the Matrons would have been all 'No inappropriate touching, Cadet,' she chuckles, mimicking their disapproving voices. "Besides," she continues squeezing my hand and smiling, "being with you made me feel so much better. I didn't want to think about unhappy things."

"I suppose you're right," I finally answer. We are both silent then, each of us lost in our thoughts and musings. And I don't want to disturb this quiet peacefulness between us – but I have so many more questions to ask. I know she has asked me for a little more time, a little more patience; yet I've run out of both.

This is why, with a deep sigh, I interrupt her thoughts.

"Bella, I don't understand how only the women were told the truth about everything. I don't understand how so many of you could continue to hide something so important from all the men in your lives." The anger I thought was gone has been there all along – and, once again I'm on my feet – pacing in front of her, gesturing my impatience.

"Do you really think it's okay to keep secretly slipping medication into our food? To keep us in the dark, month after month, year after year? How can you justify lying to and manipulating the men who care for you, the men who swear to protect you? How can you just blindly go along with something like that?"

My voice has risen, and I can feel the rage of my hurt and humiliation building inside me.

"I don't know what to think when I look at you," I continue. "On the one hand, I see the woman I've always wanted, the woman I want a future with; someone who has promised me happiness someday. I see a woman who has this amazing gift, who uses it to help feed her community; but on the other hand, I see someone who willingly participated in the deceit that our civilization has been built upon."

"So who are you, Bella?" I shout, slamming my hand down on the table beside me, rattling the trays resting there. "Tell me how I'm supposed to understand and accept everything I've learned in the last three days and not be angry, not feel manipulated and deceived! Tell me how all of _this_ ," I throw my arms up, gesturing at the room and the space between us, "is supposed to be okay?!"

My hands are tightened into fists as I stand facing her, demanding that she answer my questions. I can sense myself beginning to shake with the rage I feel building, and that I seem unable to control. There's something else there, too; something that I don't recognize, skittering just beyond my awareness. Even when I consciously try to slow my breathing and calm myself, I'm unable to stop this urge to strike out, to make something hurt the way I am hurting.

Bella is watching me closely, her eyes darting between my clenched fists and the fury on my face. I take a step backwards, away from her, as she slowly stands to face me.

"Edward," she says softly. "It's not what you think. You're jumping to conclusions. Please, sweetheart, listen to me." She hesitantly reaches out to me – but I back away from her again. "It hasn't always been this way. In the past, only a few of the women knew the truth about the birth control, or about the Thaay. And from what I've been told, in the very distant past, no one even cared who took the medication; it worked, and our society functioned without the gifts, and we were happy. But things have been changing, Edward. We need the gifts, and the abilities that come with them."

"And… ?" I prod her, knowing she hasn't told me everything yet.

"About five years ago," she begins again, "a difficult decision had to be made – and _that_ is when all the adult women were brought together, and told the whole truth. Every year since then, the new group of seventeen-year-old women are included and, just before their first social, everything is explained to them, too."

Bella smiles at me then, a small, gentle smile that I know is intended to help calm my emotions; but it does little to alleviate the simmering bitterness inside me.

"So, you see, love, no one has been trying to hurt you; no one is doing this out of spite or malice. Everything that has happened, every decision that has been made – no matter how difficult or how terrible it may seem – _everything_ has always been done to help our people survive."

Bella has been slowly edging towards me as she has been speaking, her hand reaching out to touch and soothe me. I know she is trying to calm me; but it feels like manipulation again… and so, the whole time she's been talking and approaching me, I've been backing away from her just as slowly. I'm still angry, and I don't like this feeling of being out of control.

In fact, there's something about this whole situation that just doesn't feel right. I can still trace the anger coursing through me, almost as though it is alive and moving through my veins. That other unknown emotion is there, too, building along with it. My hands tremble when I try to unclench them, and my head is beginning to hurt from the buzzing in my ears.

"Stop!" I shout at her, when she takes another step towards me. "Just stop, Bella… please." Taking several more steps away from her, I attempt to put some distance between us. I'm trying to understand everything she has told me; but my thoughts are jumbled, and nothing seems to make sense.

"What was it?" I mumble, rubbing my temples to ease the pain. "What happened?"

"Edward, are you alright?"

I look up to see Bella staring at me in concern. "Yes!" I bite off. "Now just tell me, Bella," I demand. "What was so important that all the women had to be told? You said a 'difficult decision had to be made.' Explain to me _who_ brought all the women together. Who decided it was okay to exclude all the men?"

"I don't think… " she stutters, watching me warily.

"Now!" I order. "Tell me now!"

She takes a step away from me, and I watch while she straightens her shoulders with resolve.

"Five years ago, all the women who were seventeen and older met with the advisory council, the Matrons, and your… uh, our leader," she stumbles. "They were presented with facts and information that forced them to make the decision to quit having children. There haven't been any children born in our valley in the last five years, Edward, and there will never be any more."

Her words leave me stunned and speechless, rocked to my very core by the implications of what she has just confessed. Without children, there can be no Protectors; without children, there can be no workers to manage the farms, or the mines, or the water distribution system. Without children, there is nothing except a gradually aging society that will slowly fade into oblivion.

Without children… there is no future.

I huff to myself when I think about my plans of one day becoming a doctor; of finding a solution to our declining birthrate; of marrying Bella and raising a family together – all things I had hoped to do after I mustered out of active duty. None of this will happen now; all of these dreams will remain just that – stupid dreams that will never come true. Dreams that have been rendered useless and impossible, because of a decision made without any input from the male half of our population.

My mind flashes back to waking up in the hospital, and Dr. Marcus' words about the advisory council and their leader, my mother. Is it possible that there is only one advisory council – and only one leader – for both places? Is it possible that she is in charge of our valley, as well as this underground settlement, and even the scientists living in the space station? Can it be that my own mother is the one who is responsible for this disastrous, one-sided decision?

"Who?" I ask. I can feel the menace in my voice, the determination in my body as I advance towards Bella. "Who is on this advisory council, and who is this leader?"

Her eyes are wide and frightened as I stalk towards her. "Edward… "

"It's my mother, isn't it?" I shout. " My mother, and the Matrons, and the scientists, and the people from Korinth. All of you, manipulating and scheming; planning the end of our civilization, the end of life in our valley. Is that why you were all so anxious for my powers to develop, for my gifts to manifest themselves? Were you counting on my feelings for you to make me weak and pliable, so that you could use me to support your plans?"

Bella is shaking her head, trying to speak; but I don't give her a chance to say anything as I continue yelling.

"Dear Ares, do you understand what you've just confessed to?" I shout. "Treason! All of you are traitors! What could possibly have happened to make you decide to do something like that? How could you just give up on our city, on our people? How could you let our civilization end?"

"Answer me!" I scream, as my body shakes and my head pounds.

There is a small, tiny, rational part of my mind that recognizes I am out of control, that the words I am spewing from my mouth are cruel – but I'm long past caring. It's as if there are two of me in my brain, and the one in charge wants to hurt something, wants revenge for all the frustration that has been building inside me for the last three months. Revenge for a lifetime of hurts, both real and imagined.

Confusion flitters across Bella's face as I continue to yell at her, demanding reasons for something so horrific, so overwhelming, that I can barely believe what she has told me.

"No, Edward… " she tries to interrupt. But I'm unrelenting in my demands, and give her no chance to speak .

"What gives you and the rest of the women the right to make such a decision without consulting us, the men in the valley? Shouldn't we have a say in the future of our people? How could you…? What kind of… ?" I'm at a loss for words as the rage and anger rush through me, making me unable to finish my sentences.

I watch as Bella holds out her open palms to me in supplication, cautiously moving towards me. "Please, Edward," she begs. "You don't understand. Please let me finish."

Her mouth moves as she continues to talk, her eyes pleading with me to listen, to understand; but I can't. I'm too caught up in my wrath, in my fury, in the pain that is rippling through my head to be able to concentrate on her words. My hands, clenched into fists again, are trembling from the effort to not strike out at her, at all the women that she represents.

Bella takes another step – and suddenly everything just explodes within me, and I find myself encased in my shield; but it is nothing like the shield I am used to seeing. This time, I am inside a hard, clear dome that glitters in the sunlight filling the room. Crackles of energy zip across its surface and sputter around me. Inside, it is quiet, almost peaceful… as though I am detached and protected from the outside world.

A smug, satisfied smile slowly crosses my face as I gaze at my shield.

 _This_ is that unknown feeling that has been building inside me. And I finally recognize it for what it is: it is power.

Power that I can use to force them – all of them – to do what I want.

Power that will allow me to restore our way of life to the way it once was.

Women will begin having children again. Protectors will see to it that we are safe in our valley. The crops will be planted and harvested… and everyone will be happy, and life will go on, just as it has for generations.

With my power, I can force this change.

With my power, I can return to the happier, simpler time of my childhood.

With my power, I can save our civilization.

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Thank you for reading. Chapter 26 is almost finished and will post soon.


	26. Chapter 26

AN: So here it is. See you at the bottom.

The Protector

Chapter 26

EPOV

Bella is still talking when I look back at her; but her voice is muffled, and I have to concentrate to hear her through the barrier that separates us. I catch only short phrases of words – she says something about water, and storms, and leaving – but I'm too caught up marveling at this immense feeling surging through me, and the wonder of this new and strange shield surrounding me, to pay much attention to her words.

The dome sizzles and hums and grows thicker, feeding off the energy inside me, even as it fuels that part of me that lusts for the power it represents.

Movement brings my attention back to Bella, as she takes a tentative step towards me. She's staring at me, slowly shaking her head, as she studies the smug expression I know is on my face. She must be able to see, just from looking at me, the changes I'm feeling within me.

I watch as… almost in slow motion… she reaches out towards me; but when her hand comes in contact with the surface of the shield, there is a sharp burst of light and a loud _snap!_ as energy arcs from the dome, racing up her hand and arm.

She jumps back, startled, her eyes wide with fear and pain, as she examines the raw, red burn mark left on her skin. I'm shocked, too, at what has just happened; I've never hurt anyone with any of my abilities before. And though I still want to make her – and everyone else – do exactly what I want, I'd never considered even the possibility of causing bodily harm to get my way.

That tiny, rational part of me that I've been ignoring slowly becomes more insistent: reminding me of my Oath… reminding me that there are reasons for what has been hidden from me… reminding me that it is wrong to use my power to force people to do what I desire.

Alarmed by what has just happened, I turn to distance myself from her; but my shield bumps up against the edge of the table, and – with a loud cracking sound – it splits and falls in pieces, the trays resting on its top shattering to the floor. A low rumble reaches my ears, and I can feel the surface beneath me begin to shudder and shake. When I whip my head around to check on Bella, she is staring at me in disbelief as she wildly attempts to steady herself against the planting wall beside her.

I turn away in desperation, trying to find a way out of the room – only to see the shelves and tables next to me sway and tremble, as another tremor wracks the entire chamber. Gardening tools begin to cascade from the shelves, and pots filled with soil and half-grown plants splatter on the floor around me.

Behind me, I can distantly hear Bella calling my name.

Now my feeling of power is combined with the slight unease of fear, as I try to get control of the hard enclosure around me. I close my eyes, willing it to return to me, to fade into that place inside me where it resides.

Nothing happens.

I try again; frowning in concentration as I mentally grab it, tugging at it… pulling at it… straining to force its return to me.

Again, nothing happens.

Struggling, I concentrate even harder, the sharp bite of real fear spiking my efforts to direct its movements; but the more effort I exert, the more it resists – and the thicker and harder it becomes.

It is in that moment I realize: I am no longer in control of the shield, my emotions, or the destruction that is happening around me.

The very power I planned to use to force people to obey me has, instead, trapped me within this physical manifestation of itself. Unable to free myself, I panic – choking in great, gulping gasps of air as my lungs constrict and my heart races.

Another shudder rocks through the room, and I watch in horror as a deep crack zig-zags up one outside wall. "Get out, Bella," I begin screaming as I turn back to her. "Get out… _please_ ," I beg.

She's shaking her head at me, her eyes and words urging me to be calm, to relax, to let her help me. But I can't; I just need her to leave, to get to safety.

Then, the most violent tremor yet reverberates throughout the room, and the planting wall beside her begins to fragment, breaking into large, jagged sections. Bella jumps away from it quickly, just seconds before the heavy chunks and pieces begin to fall. I watch all this helplessly from inside my shield, as she turns her head away from me, and begins shouting for my father. "Carlisle, _hurry_ ," she screams. "Please hurry!"

The words are barely out of her mouth when Father comes running around one of the divider walls, Alice in tow. One look at the destruction around me, and he's pushing them both towards the door. "Get out," I hear him order them. "Now! Go find Jasper and send him here."

As soon as they are gone, he turns back to me. He takes a single, tentative step towards me; but I shake my head, warning him to stay away, afraid that I will hurt him.

"Edward… son, you're not going to hurt me," he states calmly.

I want to believe him. But I'm still afraid, still out of control; still battling the anger, rage – and now fear – I feel warring inside me. Shaking my head again, I take a few steps away from him, trying to keep a safe distance between us; trying to ensure that he can't be hurt by touching my shield.

"Stay back, stay back!" I warn. Another, weaker tremor rattles the room around us.

Stopping his advance and lowering his arm to rest beside him, Father begins to speak to me. His voice is low, and somewhat muffled by my shield. I can only make out every third word or so; but it is the timbre of his words… their tone, their cadence… that I find myself listening to. That I find myself, finally, able to hear.

He speaks of his love and pride in me – telling me stories of my childhood, joking about things that Jasper, Emmett, and I did as children.

He reminds me of my Oath – of my promise to protect, and of a happy future waiting for me.

His words are almost hypnotic in the way they affect me; and I find myself leaning towards him as my body relaxes. My breathing finally slows… then deepens… as the severity of my emotions gradually lessens. I can feel all the rage, and anger, and frustration… chip by chip, shard by shard… gradually slipping away.

Last to go is that craven hunger for power. Power that I – in my hubris – had thought to control and use to force my will on the people I had sworn to serve and protect. Power that had trapped me in its isolated grip, turning my shield into a weapon of destruction rather than the barrier of protection that it had always been before. Power that had pushed me dangerously close to becoming a copy of my tyrannical ancestor who had helped ruin our world.

It dissipates slowly, steadily, and I feel only relief when it is gone.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Jasper cautiously approaching me. I want to warn him away; but the effort to do anything is too overwhelming. Without being aware of it, my eyes slowly flutter closed as the security of Father's words wraps around me.

.

.

I'm not sure how much time passes; but when I open my eyes, my shield is gone… and I'm leaning against Father, his arm wrapped around me and supporting me. Silently, he leads me over to the bench where Bella and I sat earlier – and there I sit again: elbows on my knees, head in my hands, lost in my exhausted thoughts.

When Father finally comes to rest down beside me, I slowly straighten up… and then sigh, surveying the debris around us.

"I can't believe my anger was so out of control. I can't believe I did this," I continue, gesturing at the broken table, the smashed pots, and the cracks that scar the floor and wall nearest us.

Shaking my head from the disappointment I feel at my prior actions, I stand, resignedly, and face my father. Shoulders squared, chin up, and hands clasped behind my back, I straighten my posture and speak the words we've been taught to say after making a mistake.

"I am sorry, Father," I begin, the formal words tumbling by rote from my lips. "I apologize for my lack of discipline and restraint. I beg forgiveness for abandoning my training." I've said these words many times in my years as a cadet; but this is one of the few times that I've fully understood the true weight of their importance. This time, I honestly mean them.

"Oh, son," he shakes his head, before taking my hand and pulling me back to the bench. "Sit," he orders. "I am not your Commanding Officer, Edward, nor I am one of your trainers or superiors; and you are no longer a cadet. I'm your father, and there are no apologizes needed, not with me."

"The strength of your emotions is part of your gift," he begins, as I take my place beside him. "The power that you control with your shield, with your mental abilities, with the quickness of your intellect; that power comes with a hefty cost. You feel things – both good and bad – more intensely. Your anger, your rage, your frustration, and your fears are, in fact, an _integral_ part of your gift; but so is your ability to love more deeply, to sympathize with others, to find beauty and peace in the simple things around you. Your gift is a wonderful thing, _all_ facets of it – you just need to accept and understand them as parts of the same whole."

I shake my head in denial when he finishes speaking, refusing the absolution he offers.

"You don't understand, Father. The things Bella told me made me so angry that I wanted to use my power to force my will on her, on the rest of the people in our valley. It fueled my need for revenge, my desire to manipulate someone the way I felt I had been manipulated. I wanted Bella, and Mother – and all the other people – to be forced to understand that what I demanded was the right thing. Their opinions didn't matter; only I knew what was the best for our society."

"In that moment – that moment when I first felt a heady rush of power – I forgot my training, forgot my Oath, forgot everything I have been taught to cherish and protect. I became a monster, a tyrant, just like my ancestor, Avaro. I don't… I don't deserve your forgiveness."

My bitter confession leaves me emotionally drained; and I once again lean over my knees, covering my face with my hands. My chest feels tight, and I find it hard to breathe. Soon, I'm gasping for breath, fighting the sudden prickling of moisture I feel in my eyes, when my father's comforting hand begins rubbing soothing circles on my back.

"Edward," he asks softly, "what did you want the people of the valley to do? What was it that you thought was best for everyone?"

"I… " Swallowing, I take a deep breath, trying to clear my throat of the emotions clogging it. "I wanted things to be normal again. I wanted men and women to form families and have children. I wanted to see new Protectors training and taking their Oaths. I wanted the planting and the harvests, and… " My words stop as I try to remember the desires I felt so strongly while under my shield. "I guess I just wanted things to go back to the way they were, before… "

"Before you took your Oath?" Father asks.

"Yes," I finally nod. "Before I took my Oath."

"Why did you want to return to that time?"

His question makes me stop and consider why I would want to return to being a cadet, when I had looked forward to becoming a Protector all my life. "I guess… I guess it's because… " I stop again, trying to put my feelings into words. "I think it's because life was ordered and routine then… and I was happy," I finally manage to say.

"Are you not happy now, Edward?"

Again, I have to stop and think about his question. I realize I'm not really unhappy; I don't feel sad. Instead, I feel… _unsettled_ … _unstable_ … _unsure_ of my place, in this new existence in which I've found myself. I admit to myself that I am more than disappointed that none of my hopes about life as a Protector have matched the reality.

With a resolute sigh, I sit up. Turning to face him, I begin to tell Father all of this – finally sharing the frustrations and thoughts I've had about my life since taking my Oath. I tell him of my shock at discovering my shield and confess, sheepishly, at my self-pride in possessing such a unique ability. I discuss my training with Hunter, and how my hard-won physical prowess made me feel strong and competent. I even admit how much Hunter's friendship and approval meant to me.

He nods, knowingly, when I tell him about my awe upon discovering the archives, and how the long hours spent learning so many new things about our world brought me so much pleasure. He even smiles slightly when I express my need and desire for a physical relationship with Bella.

And then I open up to him about my conflicted feelings since waking up here, in the settlement hospital. I talk about all the things I've been told, and how learning the truth has only made me feel manipulated and lied to, rather than relieved to finally understand the history and facts surrounding our society. Throughout my long and rambling outpouring of words, he never interrupts, never asks a question; he just listens, patiently, until I'm finished.

A few quiet minutes pass while we sit beside each other. I can tell he is gathering his thoughts as he shifts his weight on the bench.

"Edward," he finally begins. "Our society has designed a plan, a system, for raising our children. It has evolved over many years, accommodating gradual changes when they were needed or warranted. Your childhood was structured, consistent. All your basic physical needs for food, water, clothing and shelter were provided for you."

When I nod in agreement, he continues.

"You were educated by teachers who had your best interests in mind, and trained by adults who helped you develop your physical abilities. The work rotations let you experience all the different occupations of our valley, allowing you to explore your different interests. At the same time, it gave you the opportunity to contribute to your community, to let you understand how important you – both as an individual, and as part of a group – were to the success of our community."

"But perhaps the best part – the most important part – of your early development is that for the first eight years of your life, you grew up in a loving home that included full-time parenting. Neither your mother nor I were required to work while you, and your siblings, were still at home. Our society was designed in such a way that we could give you the safety, attention and support you needed as a child. You were loved and protected… cocooned, if you will… by a family structure and home environment that always put your best interests first."

Once again, I am reminded of how oblivious I've been to many, many things. I've never really considered the deeper ramifications of my schooling and my training, or how the work assignments are designed to benefit families with small children. Having grown up in this system, I've just accepted it as normal; it just _was_.

Now, as I contemplate how nearly perfect it seems, I can't help but feel a pang of regret at the impending loss of this way of life. Before I can comment, however, Father continues speaking.

"Even after you entered your training, you were surrounded by your cohort, your friends. That was your childhood, Edward," he explains, "and you shouldn't feel guilty about missing the happiness that you felt there; but when you took your Oath, everything changed. You became an adult, with adult responsibilities. For most of the Protectors, that meant moving on to what they wanted in life: an occupation they desired; a physical relationship with a woman; a secure place in our society."

"But not for me," I whisper.

"No, not for you, son," he replies, with a heavy sigh. "And I'm sorry for that, Edward. I truly am. I wish we were all back in the valley; I wish you had the choice to live like the rest of your cohort, oblivious to the hard truths that we are dealing with. Your abilities have made you special, though; and because of them, we've had to ask exceptional sacrifices of you… and of Bella, too. But still – you most certainly have the right to your anger and frustration."

His words help to relieve my troubled conscience. But they also raise questions about the usefulness of these gifts that he – and everyone else – seem so proud of; the gifts that now appear utterly worthless when compared to the eventual decline and demise of our civilization.

As I express those thoughts to Father, he looks at me strangely for a moment before asking if I heard what Bella was telling me. "Of course," I reply. "She told me there will be no more children born in our valley. She told me the women had decided – on their own, without even asking our feelings about it," I add bitterly – "to just quit having children; to let our society die."

"No, son," he interrupts, shaking his head. "Did you listen to what else she tried to explain while you were inside your shield?"

"I… " I think about watching Bella from inside my shield; how hard it was to hear her, how I chose to ignore her pleading eyes and words. "No," I finally confess. "I was too angry… too upset by what she had just told me… to listen to her. I thought she was just trying to manipulate me again," I add sullenly.

Father cocks one eyebrow at me, his meaning very clear – even without words. Abashed, I shift my glance away, embarrassed by the small rush of anger that had come so easily.

"What… ?" I stop and clear my throat, before continuing. "What was she trying to tell me?" I finally ask.

Father shifts around on the bench so that he is looking directly at me. His face is very serious as he slowly begins to explain.

"Edward… son… it's true that years from now, our civilization would eventually cease to exist without the birth of new children; but we will all be dead a long time before that will happen."

My shocked gasp elicits a grimace, as well as a small nod, before he continues.

"Our planet is dying, Edward – and very quickly, too. The snowpack on Olympus is almost gone. It is the last of the free-flowing water on our planet; after it melts, there will be no more above-ground water, anywhere, for any form of life to use. Oh, we could still find water underground, and pump it out with the windmills… like you saw in Korinth, and like we use here; but even that would be delaying the inevitable – and only for a few years, at most."

"The storms are getting progressively worse, all over. On the entire planet, our valley is the only place left above ground that is safe enough to ride out the worst of them… for now. In fact, that is one of the main reasons why we had to move the remaining citizens of Korinth to this settlement: their city just wasn't safe anymore. The scientists on the space station tell us that the other side of our planet – the landmass where Avaro and his empire were once located – has been scoured clean, to the bare rock, by the haboobs. Nothing grows there, nothing survives there; and soon our entire planet will look just like that side, too. The storms and the solar winds are so severe, they are slowly, steadily, stripping away our atmosphere."

Father sighs – a tired, resigned sound that conveys all the deep despair he must be feeling. He shakes his head sadly, before facing me, once again.

"Eventually…" he pauses again, the worry and fatigue on his face plain to see. "Eventually, our world will become a lifeless rock circling the sun."

"But how… ? Who… ?" I barely manage to stutter, before he continues explaining.

"There has been a small group who knew this was happening for many years now; but all the women of our valley were finally told five years ago, and _that's_ why they made the difficult decision to stop having children. Bringing vulnerable new life into a world that is dying around us would be irresponsible and morally wrong – especially if even our best plans for survival are not successful."

"Do you understand what I am trying to explain to you, son?"

"Yes… I think so," I finally acknowledge. Images of empty fields, the grass withered and brown… of orchards lined with dead trees, their skeletal limbs bare of fruit and leaves… of lifeless gardens, reduced to only dust, where robust vegetables once thrived… these desolate pictures fill my mind, and I shudder when I imagine what my valley would look like without the life-giving water that flows from Olympus.

But even worse are the thoughts I cannot escape: of hungry women and children; of the desperation and pain borne by watching helplessly, as everything and everyone you love, simply cease to exist, right before your eyes. Witnessing them slowly, painfully perish from lack of food and water would have to be the most horrendous, helpless and endless-seeming anguish anyone could ever experience.

It is then that I realize that Father is absolutely right: it _would_ be irresponsible and morally wrong to bring children into our dying world – especially if there is no clear chance of survival in sight.

A small moan of despair escapes my lips, as I shake my head sadly. "I was wrong. Oh, Father, I was very, very wrong," I confess. "I thought their decision was selfish and cruel. I couldn't understand why they would do something like that; but it must have been heartbreakingly difficult to accept what needed to be done. What strength it must have taken to make that decision!… and then to keep it to themselves for so long… all the while allowing the rest of us to live our normal lives, happy in our ignorance."

"Is that why? Is that why it was kept a secret, so that we could have a few more years of normalcy, a few more years of happiness before having to face the awful truth?"

I watch Father consider my question carefully before he answers. "It was definitely _one_ of the reasons, Edward. There were many things to consider, many reasons to postpone making the decision in the first place, and many reasons to keep it a secret afterwards. Too many, in fact, for us to discuss all of them right now."

"You have to understand, son: it was never an easy thing to do. Your mother and I debated it for a long time before she finally felt she had no choice but to bring it before the council for consideration. Even then… even knowing that there was nothing else that could be done… it took months of arguing before everyone finally agreed."

"But that's what leaders do, Edward," he says earnestly, speaking my name to make sure I am listening. "They have to make tough choices, and sometimes those choices impact the lives of people we love; the same people we wish we could shield from the troubling knowledge that makes those choices necessary."

I sense that there is a inner meaning to his words, something I should understand; but before I can ask, he starts to speak again.

"You need to talk to Bella; and yes, you _really_ need to talk to your mother. But right now, we need to talk about the plans that are being made, and how your gifts – the ones you earlier dismissed as being useless – are going to help save our civilization."

Shaking my head, I confess that I don't understand how I can do anything to change the situation our planet is in.

"Edward," my father continues. "There isn't anything we can do to save our world; that's why we're making plans to leave."

I stare at him incredulously, trying to make sense of his words. "Leave… ? I don't understand. We're leaving the valley? Leaving this settlement? Leaving the planet? What do you mean?"

Father smiles ruefully at my confusion. "Yes, to all three of those: the valley, this settlement, and the planet."

He shifts around slightly so that he can face me more easily. "Son," he begins. "The people in our valley – and the people from Korinth that are here, and the very few scientists still on the space station – are the last people on our world. Everyone else has left; and now it's our turn to go, too. There is one spacecraft remaining, and we are going to use it to leave this planet while there is still time. But the ship is old, and the technology is beginning to fail. We don't have enough space for all the people and for all the supplies that it would take to get us to our new home world."

"I don't understand what you want from me, Father," I shrug helplessly. "I don't know anything about the ships, or the technology, or how to fix any of it. How am I going to help? What am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, Edward, it's your shield, son; that's what we want from you!" he says, placing his hand on my shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly. "It's your shield that will hold the ship together – and suspend time inside it – for most of the people. It's your shield and your gifts that will save our people and our civilization."

"That's why you are so special, son. That's why we've been waiting for you, planning for you, and hoping that your abilities would develop."

Father watches me intently when he finishes. I know he is worried about my reaction to his words; but I can't find anything to say. The scope of what he has just shared has overwhelmed my thoughts, and all I can do is stare at him, aghast at the enormity of the task they expect me to accomplish.

"Father," I finally whisper, shaking my head in denial. "I don't think… I can't… " Sighing dejectedly, I reluctantly manage to look him in the eye anyway. "It's too big. I'm not strong enough to cover a whole ship and keep it going that long. I'm sorry, I just can't do that by myself."

A huge smile splits his face as he pulls me closer to him, patting my back in encouragement. "Edward, Edward," he chuckles. "After what we just saw here?" he laughs again, motioning to the debris around us. "You are _more_ than strong enough on your own; but you won't _be_ alone. You'll have Bella with you – and the two of you together will be more than powerful enough to get us to our destination."

"But… " I protest again, still shaking my head in denial. "That kind of power, Father – you saw what I did; you know what I thought, what I wanted to do. I'm afraid of it… afraid of becoming what _he_ was… if I let it loose."

"Oh, Edward," he is still smiling, still beaming his belief in me. "You will never be like Avaro. You have the wrong ancestor, son."

I study his face, trying to understand what he is telling me; but he gives me no hints, only broadening his smile as he watches me.

"Elizabeth," I finally whisper, remembering Mother's words from the archives room, when she scolded me for comparing myself to Avaro. "Mother told me I was like Elizabeth. She said I would save my family and my people. She said I would find us a new home and a new start."

"Yes," my father says to me, nodding his head all the while. "Yes, Edward, you will be _our_ Elizabeth."

"And just like her," he assures me, squeezing my shoulder again for emphasis as pure, parental pride suffuses his face.

"Just like her, my son, you will deliver us safely to our new home."

.

.

.

AN: So now Edward knows, and so do you, dear readers! I promised Bellebiter an ode _and_ a sonnet in honor of her hard work on these last two chapters; but I won't embarrass her with my feeble attempts... my heart-felt thanks will have to do. Thank you, Belle, and thank you readers for continuing to show your love and support for my story. It is truly gratifying to this newbie author.


	27. Chapter 27

The Protector

Chapter 27

EPOV

Mother is standing with her back to me when I enter the archives room.

I pause, taking a few moments to observe her before I step inside.

Her shoulders are slumped, head bowed forward, forehead resting on the glass separating the two rooms. From her reflection in the window, I can tell that her eyes are closed; she looks tired, defeated. I feel a sudden twist of emotion as I take in the subtle signs of aging that I've never noticed before: the dark circles under her eyes; the few gray hairs mixed with the soft red of her curls; the creases around her lips and eyes.

I can't help but wonder how much I've contributed to the worry mapped on her face.

Father and I were still discussing the plans to leave the planet when Jasper returned, quietly explaining that Mother was waiting for me in the archives room. He gave me a wan smile and a shake of his head when I tried to thank him for his help, waving me off as he took my place next to Father on the bench.

I'd only taken a few steps towards the door when Father called out to me.

"Edward," he began, when I turned back to him. "I know I told you that you are entitled to your feelings about everything that has happened… and you are. But you're an adult now, a trained Protector; and as such, you need to listen – _really listen –_ to everything Esme is going to tell you."

I watched as Father started to speak again, but then stopped – shaking his head slightly, as if to rearrange his thoughts. He then gave me a long, meaningful stare… silently impressing upon me the seriousness of what he was about to say… before he continued.

"I know you don't realize it yet… nor can you even hope to understand everything, at this moment… but your mother has not had the easiest of lives. She's had to make decisions that affect not only _every single person_ on this planet, but those in the sky above us, as well. And you may not agree with how everything has been handled, knowing only what you know – or _think_ you know – now; but you _do_ need to give her the benefit of your doubts – and the respect she deserves – for the impossible choices she's had to make."

"And Edward," he added, as an afterthought. "Some of those choices have truly been life and death decisions."

I stared at him for several moments, not knowing how to respond to his words – until he abruptly sent me away, telling me to not keep my mother waiting. I turned, once more, and made my way to the door; this time exiting the greenhouse with longer strides, determined to find the archives room.

And now, I stand here in the doorway… hesitating and silent… watching my mother lean wearily against the window that separates the reading area from the protected space, with its row upon row of shelves.

I am struck by the dichotomy of the image before me.

First, there's the overwhelming volume of those endless shelves in the background, behind the window: filled to towering with dry, dusty books and scrolls, containing the collective history, and wisdom, and knowledge of our world. Thousands upon thousands of weighty words, written by authors long since departed from this life.

Then there's the figure of a small, almost fragile-looking, _living_ woman, standing alone before them – who had to assume, at least from what Father has hinted at – an almost impossible role… using _that_ history, and _that_ wisdom, and _that_ knowledge… to make the decisions necessary to ensure the survival of every man, woman and child in our world.

A woman… my mother… whom I now watch leaning wearily against that window.

She doesn't acknowledge my presence when I step up beside her; only lifting her head and straightening her back, as we both stare through the glass at the information stored on those shelves.

Not wanting to disturb her thoughts, I stand silently, waiting for her to begin the conversation. After a few minutes, I hear her take a deep breath – and then quietly ask me if I've ever wondered why we trace our lineage through the female line.

I'm surprised by her question. It's something I've never really thought about; I've always just accepted it as the normal way of things. Once again, an unexpected indication of how little I've actually _examined_ about our community. "No," I finally answer.

"In a world full of war and danger… where husbands and fathers left, but never returned; a society in which widowed women were 'awarded' to the soldiers who survived… the only real constant in a child's life was the mother."

She pauses for a moment, still staring at the shelves in front of us. "In many cases, every child that a woman bore was fathered by a different man. It was easier to keep up with family ties by naming the child after the mother; and the easiest way to do that was by giving the child a name that began with the same letter as the mother's name."

"Over hundreds of years, it became the accepted custom; and people you met would probably know, or be able to guess, who your family was, simply by knowing your name. Thus, I am the child of Emily, who was the child of Emma… just as you and Emmett are the children of Esme."

A slight movement catches my eye, and I focus on my mother's reflection in the glass; she is staring at me intently, and I realize she is waiting for the question she knows I am going to ask.

"But what about Jasper and Alice? Aren't they your children, too? Yet you didn't give them a name that started with the same letter."

"Ah, yes, Jasper," she nods. "I didn't give him an 'E' name because I was angry." She huffs lightly when she sees the surprise on my face. "An emotion with which you are quite familiar, I hear."

My face flames with embarrassment; but she just assures me that it is alright, as she lightly places her hand on my arm. "I understand anger, Edward, because I've felt it, too. Anger so overwhelming… so _consuming…_ that I wanted to change everything about our society. I wanted to end all the safeguards we had in place to protect the ordered, predictable routines of our lives; predetermined routines I believed were useless leftovers from a long-distant past."

"I guess it was a good thing that I didn't possess the powers that you have – because we might not be standing here, having this conversation today, had I been able to physically force my will upon our people. In the end," she sighs, turning away to look back into the room, "calmer heads prevailed… and my rebellion was limited to naming my first-born _Jasper_ instead of _Eamon,_ the one that had been chosen for him. I learned my lesson, though; and when you and Emmett were born, I followed tradition and used the names that had already been selected for you."

Once again, she seems lost in her memories; and I wait, patiently, for her to gather her thoughts. In a few minutes, she begins to speak again.

"I was twelve – younger than Alice is now – when my mother took me to my first advisory council meeting; and there, I learned just how _different_ my life would eventually become. Oh, I knew my mother – your grandmother, Emily," she adds, glancing up at me – "was a busy woman. We always had a lot of visitors; people seemed to stop by often, or she would go visit someone, sometimes even spending the night away from home. But it wasn't until that first meeting that I got a clearer view of the role she played in the managing of our valley."

Mother stops speaking, and motions to a table and two chairs near us. "Sit with me, Edward," she says. "I have a lot to tell you, and we've both had a busy morning. We should at least be comfortable for the rest of our conversation."

I follow her as she settles into a chair facing the small table and then sit in my own, across from her, resting my arms on the tabletop as she continues.

"Since Elizabeth's time, the leadership of our valley has always been held by a woman. After she passed away, the position was handed down to her daughter, Eleni; and then to Eleni's daughter. And it has continued that way, uninterrupted, for generation after generation of women… each one a direct descendant of Elizabeth through her daughter, Eleni… all the way down to me."

"No, it wasn't always a secret," she shakes her head, answering the unspoken question on my face. "In the beginning, everyone knew and accepted the arrangement. It had been part of the original agreement between Elizabeth and the scientists in the space station and this settlement, when they agreed to help her escape from her father."

"Just like the Protector program, the lineage arrangement was designed to help control the use of inherited abilities in our people… but particularly in the male population. Ares' people didn't want – and didn't trust – any man in a leadership position again, so the women took over managing the valley."

"The advisory council was formed to help guide the leader, and to assist her in making the right decisions. Most of the time, it consisted of several of the older women, an officer or two from the Protectors, a representative from this settlement, perhaps one from the other cities, and a scientist or two from the space station."

She pauses then, and chuckles softly before smiling at me. "I've always thought it was probably their way of keeping an eye on our community – spying, if you will – and it most likely was; but later, their foresight and information became invaluable to our survival."

"Anyway," she begins again, "from what I've read of the histories, things were pretty peaceful in our valley, with life continuing as usual: the crops flourished; the population grew; people were content, well-fed, and generally happy. After awhile, the Protector program became an accepted, integrated part of our society – and it proved to be a very useful way to educate, train, and direct our sons."

"Time passed; year after year, generation after generation. Then, gradually… as these things happen… customs and more formal rituals developed; truth slowly grew into legend; and, eventually, what had once been common knowledge soon slipped from memory altogether."

"It must have been a lovely time to be alive in our valley," she muses absently, before falling silent.

"However," she sighs, starting the story again. "It was eventually noticed that the birthrate was gradually falling; fewer and fewer children were being conceived, and even fewer were being born. This was disturbing news, on many fronts – but particularly because although we knew the valley could only support a finite number of people, we also understood that we still needed a stable population to maintain our way of life."

"When it was officially determined that the continued use of the normal birth control formula was causing infertility in our women, scientists and doctors from the other cities joined forces with our own, helping us develop a formula that could be given, safely, to the men instead."

"This wasn't a secret either, Edward," she leans forward, reassuring me. When I nod my understanding, she continues.

"Everyone knew; everyone accepted it as a necessary part of our way of life. Curiously, though, one unexpected side effect occurred: people soon noticed it seemed to be blocking the mental abilities that had been inherited from Avaro. And this, too, was accepted – even welcomed, in fact – by many. It made our people less of a threat; and because of that, there was more contact between the cities, this settlement and the space station. Our society became more open, less restrictive. We still had a female leader; but in many ways, she became a mere figurehead… someone to officially lead the people through our holidays or ceremonies and such."

Mother sits back in her chair, and I watch her gather her thoughts for a moment.

"Things changed dramatically about two hundred years ago, when the scientists first began warning us that our climate was deteriorating much more rapidly than they had expected. Most vitally, the snowpacks that provided water for each of the cities were melting faster than anyone had predicted. There were urgent meetings and discussions, arguments and disagreements over what could, and should, be done. It was finally decided that we would try to find a suitable world nearby where we could live, and that we would use the spaceships that were left to leave the planet."

"Of course, saying was much easier than doing; and locating a planet – then fully outfitting one of the crafts to get there – proved to be much harder than anyone expected. The ships were just too old, and not equipped to handle a voyage of any great length, especially with that many people onboard."

Again, Mother pauses. I watch her rest her elbows on the chair arms and clasp her hands together in front of her, one hand massaging the fingers of the other as she considers her next words. I've never seen my mother so nervous, so hesitant. Reaching across the table, I take her hands in mine.

"Mother," I interrupt her fidgeting. "Are you alright? We don't have to do this now, if you need to stop."

Her eyes roam my face, trying – I think – to gauge my sincerity. Finally, she shakes her head.

"No, it's okay. I need to continue. I need to tell you everything. In fact, I probably should have told you all of this two days ago, when you woke up in the hospital. But, Edward… " she stops again, before turning our hands over, squeezing them as she continues. "I had just spent two days watching you fight the fever from the Fanger bite."

She looks down at our joined hands, and begins to softly rub her thumb over the blackened wound still visible on my right hand. "The venom… " she sighs, slowly shaking her head. "I watched that nasty, vile-smelling venom ooze from these puncture sites, while you thrashed and moaned. I'd never seen anything like that before. It was terrifying to watch you suffer, and to be helpless to do anything about it."

I watch as she grimaces, her whole body shuddering.

"All I could think about was how sick you were… and how much I wished that I could spare you – at least for a little while longer, until you were a bit stronger – from the knowledge of what I was going to have to tell you, of what was going to be asked of you and Bella. But I'm afraid… I'm afraid that in my efforts to protect you, I only made the eventual revelation that much harder. And for that, Edward, I am truly sorry."

We gaze at each other for several quiet minutes. I can see the regret on her face as she watches for my reaction. Yet I remember Father's words, reminding me: that although I have a right to my frustration, I am now an adult – and it is time for me to start acting like one.

Understanding and accepting my mother's actions is the first step; apologizing for not listening to Bella will be my second.

And so I smile at my mother, squeezing her hands in reassurance before letting them go. "I think you have more story to tell me, don't you?" I ask, leaning in to whisper dramatically. "Something about trying to escape a dying planet?"

She laughs lightly at my attempt at humor, and nods her head, smiling, at my unspoken acceptance of her apology. "Oh, yes, let's see… where was I? Well… it was Elexa – the leader of our valley at the time – who finally devised the plan we have been following ever since."

"She remembered hearing about Elizabeth and Ares, but suspected that there had to be more to the story than just legend. So, she began closely studying all the old texts and scrolls – eventually uncovering obscure but persistent references to certain mental abilities and powers that seemed to have disappeared long ago. It was when she finally discovered more detailed information about recorded implementations and ramifications of Elizabeth's shield, though, that she knew she had found the answer to the problem. A forensic search of the databases on the spaceships confirmed what she had uncovered – and thus began an intensive program to reintroduce those powers back into our population."

Mother's voice has lost most of its hesitancy as she leans towards me, warming up to the story she is telling.

"Not everyone was in favor of this solution, mind you. There were those who refused to believe the scientists, even when all the evidence was presented to them. The commanding officers – who had gradually taken on a bigger and more visual role in the leadership of the valley – were not happy with the idea of 'breeding freaks' to help the other valleys. The cities grew paranoid about the possibility of a military attack from _our_ valley. Once again, almost inevitably, our people and our settlements slowly but surely became isolated – with fear and mistrust keeping us from working together. That's when the old, tired threat of 'The Thaay' was resurrected, making our people withdraw even further into isolation."

"But this time, the planning continued; the issues and their consequences were too important to ignore. The advisory councils and their female leaders began meeting in secret – examining bloodlines and birth records, charting family trees and histories – searching for the appearances of gifts. And, gradually, over the course of several generations, the goal to produce a child who possessed the mental abilities to raise a shield was realized."

"That child – a male closely related to our lineage, by the way – was intensely tutored and trained by a select group of women, who pushed him to develop his gifts and power; and when he reached maturity, he left with the first ship of refugees. His life was not a happy nor an honored one, however; he was ostracized by his cohort because of his differences, teased because he had to spend so much time with some of the Matrons, and generally ignored by the cadet trainers and officers."

"Treated as a product – more of a useful tool, rather than a person – he was pressured to develop his mental abilities at far too young an age; he never did have the opportunity to develop physically or emotionally as well. Yet by all accounts, he stoically accepted his designated duty; and on that pioneering journey away from our world, he proved that a shield could suspend time within the ship, protecting it and its passengers safely until they reached the new planet."

A contemplative look crosses Mother's face as she adds, "I've thought about him a lot since learning his story. He was the first shield in generations. It must have been difficult trying to understand what they expected of him… and it would have been so easy for him just to give up, to conform to the norms around him. But he persisted; he used the gifts he had been given, and saved hundreds of people's lives. I've always hoped he was finally loved and appreciated when they reached their new home."

We share a moment of silence as we both think about the first of our relatives to leave our planet.

"Do you know what his name was?" I finally ask.

Her answering smile brightens her whole face as she chuckles. "Yes," she says, laughing again. "His name was Jasper."

"And that's why you…?" I laugh, before she interrupts me.

"Yes," Mother nods, grinning at me. "He deserved to be remembered and honored for his sacrifice. And besides – I liked that name a lot more than _Eamon_ ," she huffs, rolling her eyes for emphasis.

"Back to the story?" she asks after a moment. When I nod, she continues.

"He was eventually followed by a succession of gifted individuals: some male, some female, and most of them either directly descended from our line, or closely related to it. They did their duty, protecting the ships that carried the people off-world, until only two ships were left; and only the cities of Dellfi, Korinth and Olympus were still occupied.

"All of this I learned – along with the truth about the Thaay, and Avaro, and Elizabeth – at the age of twelve; the age when I began accompanying my mother to the meetings; the age when my childhood took such a drastic turn from the ordinary. I didn't like being different, having to keep secrets from the other girls. I hated every minute spent in those meetings, when I could have been home with my father, or playing games with my friends; but Mother was adamant that I attend them all, even if I resented her for it. She never stopped reminding me that it was my duty; that I would one day take her place as leader of the valley. I knew, subconsciously, that what she said was true; but I thought I had years and years before I would have to assume her place, before she became too old to lead and passed the role on to me."

Mother shifts around in her chair, trying to find a more comfortable position. I can see, as I watch her carefully, that some of her nervousness has returned – and I have to wonder what she has to tell me that would make her so uncomfortable. Taking a deep breath, she resumes her story.

"I was fifteen when she gave me a list with the names of five young men who had been selected as suitable spouses for me – and was told to consider only them as possible partners," she finally shares. "The temper tantrum I threw that day was epic."

I can feel my face flush at the reference to epic temper tantrums; but Mother only glances at me, raising an eyebrow before smiling slightly and continuing.

"I was so angry at being denied the simple right to chose my own husband that I wouldn't even listen to Mother's argument about duty, and inherited abilities, and the bloodlines that had the best chances of producing another shield. Father finally put a stop to our shouting match by physically dragging me outside and making me take a long, calming walk with him."

"I knew, of course, that another shield was needed; that no one in my generation seemed to have shown any sign of having that kind of power. I also knew that the abilities appeared to be the strongest in our lineage; and although I had not developed any kind of gift myself, there was a high probability that – given the right father, the right combination of genes from the two of us – one or more of my children could be gifted with the mental abilities that we needed. So I understood, _theoretically_ , what Mother was asking of me; it just didn't make it any easier to accept."

"When I calmed down, eventually, and had a chance to actually _look_ at the list of names… well, I found that several of the young men had already caught my eye," she adds sheepishly, glancing at me before continuing.

"I knew that my mother loved me, Edward; I really did. But Emily was all about duty, about responsibility. And I never felt like I was her first priority; I always felt like I came second, or even third, with her – after her position, after my father. Like most children, I just wanted her attention, her approval. I was selfish enough to want to be her sole focus."

With a deep sigh, Mother settles back in her chair… shrugging and rolling her shoulders as she does so.

"We eventually reached a grudging acceptance of each other. I grew up and matured; she treated me more as an equal. I was enjoying my time as an adult woman – living in a room in the city, working in my chosen field, and planning my future with Carlisle – when she suddenly turned my world upside down again."

Mother pauses, a frown creasing her forehead as I watch her begin wringing her hands again.

"I knew that conditions at Dellfi and Korinth were degenerating rapidly, and that something was going to have to be done very quickly; but I had no idea that they were planning to leave the planet so soon. For all the time that I had spent with Mother, and as well as I thought I knew her, she had never once revealed to me that she was a shield. A weak one, yes; but a shield, nonetheless."

"And so – just as we were finally learning to accept each other… just as I was looking forward to many years enjoying my husband and children, without worrying about duties and responsibilities… she left. She took my father with her to help sustain her shield, loaded the ship with all the citizens of Dellfi and half of Korinth, and they left the planet."

"They just… left."

Shaking her head as if to remove the bad memories, Mother rubs her temples with her fingertips before slamming her hand down on the table. The unexpected sound makes me start in my chair.

"I was so angry! Angry that I had to accept the title and responsibilities that had been passed to me; angry that I would not have those worry-free years of just being a wife and mother; angry that just as I really began to understand and appreciate my mother for the strong woman that she was… I lost her. I lost the opportunity to tell her I had finally learned what she had been trying to teach me all of my life: to graciously and thoughtfully accept the power that had been given to me, and to use it wisely in the service of my people."

"I lost the opportunity to tell her I was sorry."

Emotions race across my mother's face as she turns away from me to stare into the corner of the room. I know she is thinking of events in her past; of sad memories, filled with regret. Swallowing hoarsely, she returns her attention back to me.

"A few years later, my first child was born – a son I named Jasper, in honor of a forgotten young man who had accepted his fate; who had performed his duty with honor and dignity. And I vowed that every time I said Jasper's name, I would let it serve as a reminder to me: first, that although I may not have wanted the role that was handed to me, it is a part of my heritage and my duty – and I will perform it with the same honor and dignity that the first Jasper did; and second, that I have a responsibility to protect my gifted children – to give them as typical an upbringing as possible, so that they will not have to live with the burden of unhappiness that he did."

"That's what I wanted for you, Edward. I wanted you to grow up as normally as you could. From the moment you were born, everyone on the council believed that you could have the power and the abilities that we needed to escape from the planet before life became impossible. But I refused to make the mistakes with you that had been made with the other young men before you. I insisted you not be told anything until you had a chance to mature, both physically and emotionally."

"If your shield did not develop, I didn't want you to feel like a failure or a disappointment. That's why the decision to stop having children was kept a secret from almost all the men. It was my choice – my _insistence –_ that it be kept from everyone who came in contact with you. My biggest fear was that you would learn of those expectations while you were still just a child, still a developing boy of fourteen."

"I know you may not agree with my reasoning, with my decision. I know you feel like you've been lied to, and manipulated; but I did what I thought was best at the time, both as the leader of this valley and as a your mother. My sole concern for you, and for everyone else involved, has always been _your_ well-being."

As I sit across the table from my mother, listening to her tell me the story of her life… listening to her explain how actions from a grandmother I've never met influenced the decisions she's made that have so greatly affected my own life… I realize how interconnected we all are. Each of us, all of us… depending upon and influencing the happiness and fate of everyone around us.

I also realize that I cannot fault my mother for any of the choices she has made. Those choices have led all of us here, to this place, to this time – where we can finally implement the last step in a generations-long plan to save our civilization.

The last step that is dependent upon me to accept my duty, and to perform it with honor and dignity.

And so I reach across the table and, taking my mother's hands in mine, I tell her all of this.

I thank her for being _my_ protector; for loving me, and for giving me the opportunity to have a normal life.

I reassure her that my anger and frustrations are gone; that I understand and accept why some things were kept secret and hidden from me.

I tell her that I am more than ready and willing to do whatever is required of me to help save our people.

The joy that fills her face when I finish speaking is enough to wipe away all the sadness I saw there earlier. We sit for several moments, grinning at each other, before I clear my throat and declare in a mock serious voice:

"There is, however, one thing that I must demand an answer for."

"What… ?" she asks, frowning slightly.

"Alice," I grin. "Why didn't you give Alice a name that followed tradition?"

Mother's smile lights up her face, and she tips her head back as a happy laugh escapes her when she answers me. "Oh, Edward, I didn't name Alice… you did!"

"The dream… " I mutter, remembering the images that have haunted my sleep. "It's true then? I really did hug you, and whisper 'Alice' – just like in my dream?"

"Oh, yes," she nods. "It's true, it really happened. It was at Jasper's celebration day, the day he was leaving us to move into the cadet barracks. Your father understood how upset I was, and he was trying to make me feel better by reminding me of the new life I was carrying. We had just found out, and hadn't told anyone yet; so, when you hugged me and whispered that name, I knew… I just _knew…_ you would be the one we had been waiting for. I was confident you would live up to your potential."

She smiles at me again, and I can't help but smile back at the happiness I see on her face.

"And you were allowed to use the name you wanted this time?" I ask.

"Yes," she nods. "There were no questions asked, no reminders of tradition, when I named my daughter Alice."

"By then… " she pauses, only to continue again. "By then we had finally accepted the inevitable: unless we found a shield strong enough to protect our aging, last remaining ship, we were all going to perish on this planet. There didn't seem to be any real reason to continue the naming tradition. It was obvious that I would be the last leader of our coalition, so there was no real reason to give Alice a name that signified her heritage."

"It was a relief, in a way, acknowledging that," she confesses. "A relief that I wouldn't have to burden Alice with the role that I had to assume too early. I was oddly comforted knowing that for a while longer she could live her life free of at least _those_ responsibilities and worries; that she wouldn't have to keep secrets from her friends; that she could just be a normal, happy girl."

Mother pushes her chair back and stands up suddenly. "Come with me, Edward. I have something I'd like to show you."

She leads me through the door into the protected room. Bypassing all the filled shelves, she walks purposely to the far back wall of the room, where she stops in front of the last row.

"This shelf contains all of the journals, of all the women, who have ever served as leaders of our society. One after another, year after year; a record of their times, and the way life evolved and changed in our valley. Some of it is fascinating, with detailed descriptions of events that are still influencing our lives today. Some of it is boring, with mundane notes about harvests and building projects. But all of it worth reading."

Turning to face me, she continues. "Before we leave this place, I hope you will be able to look at some of them. The journals can help you understand more than I have been able to explain to you."

"My journal is there, too. It's the last one," she adds, pointing at it. "There will be no more. I've written a summary of our final days on this planet, and my thoughts about our lives. Perhaps sometime, far in the future, someone from another world might find our settlement… abandoned under the layers of time… and enjoy reading about the people who once called this planet home."

"Who knows," she smiles. "Maybe our own descendants will one day decide to return to the place of their origin… and stumble upon these accounts of our lives… and read of the mistakes we made."

My gaze wanders back to those journals: stories of lives lived, well and full; of plans implemented; of challenges met. Tales of love found and lost… of birth and death… of bravery, and cowardice, and selfishness, and generosity.

All of this, and more, chronicled in the neat hand of the women of my lineage… now arranged in tidier order, and waiting for some future explorer to find them, here, on this very last shelf.

"Perhaps they can gain wisdom from the difficult lessons we've had to teach ourselves," Mother whispers.

And I can only nod in reply.

.

.

AN: Thank you for reading. I hope this chapter answered any questions you might have had about Esme and her motivations and reasons for her actions. As always, your support is greatly appreciated.

To Bellebiter: I don't have enough words to express what your help means to me, so thank you, thank you, thank you.


	28. Chapter 28

An: No copyright infringement is intended. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

Thanks for reading!

The Protector

Chapter 28

EPOV

When I exit my room the next morning, I'm surprised to see Jasper – casually leaning against the wall opposite my door. He chuckles at the confusion on my face, as he pushes himself away to stand upright.

"Were you hoping to spend the morning helping Alice again, Edward?" he half-teases.

"Why, do you have another greenhouse to show me?" I tease back. "Or for me to destroy… " I add as an afterthought.

"No," he laughs. "This will be a lot more fun," he assures me, pulling on my arm as he begins leading the way along the corridor.

"Here, eat this," he says, shoving a small bag into my hands.

Pausing to open it, I find warm rolls, fresh from the oven; a couple of boiled eggs, and a small, ripe apple.

"What is this?" I yell at Jasper's rapidly disappearing back.

"Your breakfast," he shouts back. "Eat up. We have a busy day planned, and you're going to need your strength."

"Jasper… Jasper, wait," I demand, breaking into a jog to catch up with him. "Where are we going, and what are we going to do?"

"I promised you some fun, didn't I?"

"Yes, but… "

My brother stops abruptly, letting me catch up with him. He has a cocky grin on his face as he waits for me. "Come on, little brother," he smirks. "I'm going to teach you how to fly!"

He laughs even louder at the stunned look on my face, before turning to continue his way down the wide corridor – leaving me to follow him in confused silence, all the while trying to quickly down the breakfast he has given me.

Jasper strides ahead along another lighted passageway before suddenly taking several sharp turns down narrower hallways. He finally stops in front of a metal door that opens into a small alcove, filled with chairs. Two other doors exit the area, and Jasper takes the one on the right.

Following right behind him, I soon find myself in what, at first, looks very much like the kind of office space occupied by the Commanding Officer and his staff, back in our valley – only this one is filled with sleeker, more complicated machines, next to even more unfamiliar equipment. One wall is all windows, while the other three are occupied by two women and a man seated at desks, facing large screens similar to the ones in the archives room.

They stand when we enter, and Jasper introduces me to each of them. I'm unsure how to address them – wondering either with a 'Madam' or 'Sir,' and whether to salute or not – but they solve my dilemma by simply reaching out with their right hands, warmly grasping my forearm. Smiling, they ask me to please call them by their names.

Over the next hour, I learn that this is one of several 'control centers' for the settlement. This particular one is responsible for facilitating communications with the space station orbiting the planet above us, as well as for monitoring travel on the planet's surface or in the sky. Apparently, there are other such 'centers' that measure and regulate the air flow and temperature, water use and storage, electrical and power systems… and everything else that makes this underground settlement livable.

It is all a bit confusing to me; but Jasper assures me that I don't have to comprehend everything at once – just accept and understand, for now, that it works.

I also learn that the screens are called _monitors,_ and that they are all somehow connected to a large central machine called a _computer –_ which is itself capable of storing massive amounts of information, and is depended upon to perform many intricate, time-consuming tasks for the settlement. It can also somehow 'think' – as well as make reliable predictions, and perform minutely accurate calculations – based solely upon information sent to it through 'sensors.'

Again, Jasper tells me not to worry about trying to understand the _how_ of it right now.

One of the monitors begins making a shrill, insistent beeping, and a tiny red light at the top of it flashes several times. The woman named Cora immediately touches several buttons in rapid succession, and the screen fills with the face of a man unfamiliar to me. Yet he smiles warmly when he appears to see me, directly through the surface of the machine – introducing himself as Gagan, the head scientist in charge of operations on the space station.

"He can see me?" I question Cora, in an amazed whisper.

"Yes," she smiles back at me. "And he can hear you too."

I can only stare back in amazement when I realize I am talking to a person thousands of miles above me in the sky.

Jasper leans over my shoulder – and Gagan then greets him, too – before stating they are ready for our visit, and looking forward to seeing us.

"We're going up there?" I ask incredulously, turning to look at Jasper.

"You didn't tell him?" Gagan questions.

"Nah," Jasper grins. "I was just about to. The shuttle is loaded, prepped, and ready to go. Is there anything else you need us to bring?"

Gagan shakes his head 'no' and signs off, telling us he will see us soon, before Jasper leads me back through the seating area and out the other door. We make our way along a short, narrow passageway that slopes sharply downward.

At the end is another heavy door that opens into an enormous space – certainly the biggest enclosed space I've ever been in – full of machinery and noise. I can barely see the shadowed roof above me when I peer up at it. Glancing around, I spot the glass wall of the control room above and behind us. Cora and her workmates are watching, and they wave when they notice me looking up at them.

This vast _hangar_ , as Jasper informs me it is called, is a beehive of activity: everywhere I look, I see people working. On one side of the room sits a very large, slightly bulky-looking vehicle – which I eventually recognize as a shuttle, when I recall the pictures Mother showed me previously. Staring at it now, I realize it is bigger than my parent's entire house back in the valley; but even _its_ impressive, hulking size is dwarfed, several times over, by the rest of this cavernous space.

I watch as a line of people push heavily-laden carts up a ramp and into the interior of the shuttle, while another group appear to be repairing a panel on its side. I can hear the ringing sounds of hammered metal, intermittently interrupted by the gruff sounds of shouted instructions.

Letting my awed gaze wander around the hangar again, I notice a number of land rovers – like the one that Jasper and Bella used to bring me here, after rescuing me from the Wastelands – parked along the opposite wall. They also seem to be undergoing some cleaning and repairing; I can see tools and parts spread out around several of them.

Cumbersome-looking pieces of metal or equipment are grouped just beyond the rovers. When I ask him, Jasper confirms that these are, in fact, spare parts taken from other shuttles that have been scrapped over the years, or are no longer able to be repaired. The engineers at the settlement reuse everything they can to keep the two shuttles functioning.

In one far back corner, I spy what appears to be the burned-out hulk of a smaller shuttle. In this huge, humming workshop of constant activity and repair and re-purposing, its isolated, blackened skeleton is an ugly reminder of something that must have gone very wrong. Jasper comes to stand beside me as I stare at it for several minutes.

"What happened?" I ask.

"An accident," he finally answers.

"It must have been bad."

Jasper doesn't reply immediately. From the corner of my eye, I can see him nod slowly before turning to me.

"Edward… " he begins, hesitantly. "Bella's parents, Charles and Renee, were aboard that shuttle when it flew into the edge of a sudden, unexpected storm. The pilot tried to correct course, tried to find a safe place to land; but it was all happening too fast – and too late. The wind caught the shuttle, and started flipping it, over and over; he couldn't regain control, and it finally crashed. When it did, it must have caught fire and burned immediately; probably upon impact. All three of them were killed."

"Oh, dear Ares," I whisper, sickened at the imagery in my mind. "I didn't know. We were never told exactly what happened; just that there had been an accident that claimed their lives. Does Bella know?"

"Yes, she's seen the wreckage."

"I can't believe she kept it a secret. She never said anything about what happened."

"Well, she couldn't really tell anyone, could she?" he replies. "She's had to keep a lot of secrets over the past couple of years."

Shaking his head in sympathy, Jasper reflects for a moment before he comments again.

"I think, except for Mother, she may be one of – if not _the –_ strongest women I've ever known… even if she _is_ scared to death of the haboobs."

Jasper's pensive expression is eased by his half-hearted attempt at humor, and he smiles wanly at me as he shrugs his shoulders and continues.

"But I can understand why," he adds, glancing back at the wreckage. "I'm not sure I've ever seen anyone as angry or as upset as she was when we left without finding you in the canyon. I assured her that you would be safe; but I don't think she believed me until we found you days later. Of course, by then you had been bitten by the Fanger, and she blamed herself for that – and for everything else that happened, too."

"She's a remarkable young woman," he declares, as he begins to walk towards a smaller, more stream-lined shuttle in the center of the room. "I hope you appreciate how lucky you are to have her; and I hope she made you grovel, at least a little bit, before she forgave you last night."

When I don't respond to his statement… just choosing to follow him quietly, instead… Jasper glances over his shoulder at me.

"Edward… ?"

My face must show my guilt, because he stops abruptly, and turns to face me.

"Please tell me you found Bella sometime yesterday, after your talk with Mother ended?"

I can feel my face heat up as I shake my head, trying not to meet his accusing eyes.

"You didn't talk to her? You didn't apologize for ignoring her when she tried to explain things to you in the greenhouse yesterday – and you didn't even apologize for everything that happened afterwards?"

"No," I stutter, trying to gather my thoughts for an explanation of why I had chosen not to seek her out, why I had hidden in my room instead. "I just… I mean, I couldn't… I was… "

"Edward," he cuts me off. "You are many, many things; but I never thought one of those was stupid, little brother." With a huff and a roll of his eyes, he strides off towards the vehicle again.

After a stunned moment, I follow him, muttering to myself about how much he is beginning to sound like Hunter. A slight shaking of his shoulders and a soft chuckle tells me he has heard what I said.

I stop to take one last, lingering look around this remarkable room. I'm surprised at how strangely familiar so much of it feels. The tools and equipment and machinery – although used for very different purposes – could easily substitute for those found in our valley. Perhaps, then, the basic principles of engineering are the same – whether used for building space shuttles, planning complicated water control systems, or installing complex water-driven looms to make cloth?

All this I consider, as I let Jasper lead me to one end of the shuttle.

A large, door-like opening takes up part of one side. Like the bigger version, a ramp leads up into the interior, which is stacked high with boxes and containers. When I ask about them, he explains that most are filled with fresh food; particularly eggs, goat cheese, and other products from animals that cannot be raised on the station. There are also several baskets full of baked goods – bread, honey cakes and other sweets – that the small crew view as special treats.

He goes on to explain that only one food pod is still barely operational on the space station, and is reserved mainly for quicker-growing vegetables and some fruits. The other pods have all been dismantled, and their parts used to modify the ships that have left over the years.

And then, during his explanation, it occurs to me: there is no place here in the settlement for raising animals to provide the eggs, cheese and meat that have been served since I arrived, or for growing the wheat for the flour in the bread and Alice's 'pancakes' that I've enjoyed.

When I point this out to Jasper, he confesses that for generations, the other valleys had kept the settlement and the space station supplied with food; but for several years now, our valley has been left solely responsible for sending them supplies.

Pausing in his answer, he presses a lever which simultaneously raises the ramp and closes the opening at the back of the shuttle. Then, pointing to a system of straps and webbing, he gestures for me to help him secure all the containers in place, explaining that movement or shifting of the boxes while we are in flight could be very dangerous.

It is while I am helping him that I notice a large box full of fresh carrots. All the events from yesterday come rushing back – and I'm lost in my mind watching Bella use her gift to force the vegetables to grow, and then confessing that her mother had the same ability.

"Edward… ?" Jasper questions, when he notices my lack of movement.

Whispering 'carrots,' I turn to my brother and ask if these are the same ones that Bella grew yesterday. His nod tells me they are.

"Is that… is that what Renee did? Was she helping grow vegetables and fruit for the settlement and the space station?"

Watching me carefully, Jasper nods again.

"Was she doing that when the accident occurred?"

"Yes," he finally concedes. "Our valley's harvest had been lighter than expected, so Renee was here for several weeks, forcing vegetables and fruit to mature and ripen. When they had enough for the settlement and a little extra for the station, she and Charles helped the pilot load up a shuttle to make the supply run. They were there several days, while she worked in the food pod replenishing their stores, before heading back down."

"And that's when they got caught by the storm?"

"Yes."

"And Bella knows all of this?"

"Yes, Edward," he huffs. "I told you… "

Before he can finish, I'm interrupting him again. "Has she ever been to the space station? Has she gone on a supply run?"

Jasper studies me for a moment before shaking his head in understanding. "No, Edward, she's never been. We would never ask that of her; it would just be too cruel. Although… knowing Bella… she might do it anyway, if she thought it was important enough. Or if she thought it was her duty."

Jasper's meaning is clear, and I nod my head… all the while whispering, "Good, good, of course… before following him to the front of the shuttle; relieved that she has stayed safe – and, at the same time – acknowledging his pointed reference to her strength and bravery.

A bank of slanted, gently sloped windows make up part of the front of the shuttle. Glancing out of them, I can see the distant walls around us, as well as a cleared, road-like surface in front of us. Jasper motions for me to take a seat in one of the six padded chairs facing the windows. He shows me how to strap and lock-in several thick, tightly-woven belts and harnesses around my body – all of which, he explains, will keep me safely secured during take-off, and if we should encounter any turbulence during the flight. Taking the seat next to me, he fastens himself in, and then begins flipping switches and pressing buttons on the banks of equipment that face us.

A screen flickers to life, and the image of Cora from the control center appears. She and Jasper talk for several minutes, going over what they call a system's check, and then discuss several small storms that are in the vicinity. After deciding that none of them are an immediate danger to us, she tells Jasper that we are cleared to leave, and wishes us safe journey.

"I'm going to power up the engines now, Edward," Jasper informs me. "It will get pretty loud; but there really isn't anything to worry about."

He looks at me, expectantly, until I nod.

"I'm also going to link myself to the computer that is controlling the shuttle. It may look weird; but again – there's nothing to worry about."

I know his words are meant to reassure me; but I still experience a moment of panic when a loud roar fills the shuttle, and it begins to shudder with a bone-deep vibration.

Jasper picks up a small, four-pronged device from the panel in front of us. He places the longest part over his head, where it fits securely from ear to ear. One prong with a small, rounded knob is placed inside his ear, and another is adjusted to fit in front of his mouth. The fourth part opens up to become a small screen, which he moves in place, in front of his left eye. Images begin to flicker across the screen, and I can see his eye move back and forth, tracing their movement.

Then, Jasper places his right hand on a flat recessed panel beside him – and I watch, fascinated, as a rounded ball emerges beneath his palm. He curves his hand over and around the device, fitting his fingers into several indentions. Lights begin to glow beneath the pads of each finger, and numerous thin wires emerge to wrap themselves in and around his fingers and hand.

When he is secured to the ball, my brother glances over at me, a teasing grin twitching the corners of his mouth as he acknowledges me staring at him. "Ready to fly, Edward?" he challenges.

I can only nod, hesitantly, before he warns me to hang on. The roar of the engines and the vibration of the shuttle increases dramatically… until they forcefully blend into one cacophony of sound and movement that threatens to override all my other senses. I watch Jasper's fingers twitch on the control ball, while his eyes continue to rove back and forth over the information he is seeing on his head screen.

His lips move again; but I cannot even hear my own thoughts – let alone what he is saying – over the thunderous noise surrounding us.

Slowly, he rolls his hand forward… and then we are moving.

For a second, I find it impossible to grasp just how quickly we might, or even could be traveling; but when I glance out the window and see the walls of the room blurring by, I realize we are not just speeding – we are _hurtling_ down the center of the room, towards a pair of wide metal doors that loom menacingly in front of us.

A strangled scream begins to make its way up my throat, and I swallow convulsively to contain the breakfast I had eaten earlier – just as it, too – threatens to erupt from my mouth. I know my eyes are wide and frightened; my fingers, white-knuckled, from gripping the arms of my chair. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, and then – just when I think there is no chance we can avoid the certain death looming in front of us – the doors slide apart, and we are through the opening and outside.

I feel a momentary sense of relief – that disappears, just as quickly – when I see what lies in front of us.

And, mostly, what does _not_.

There is a hard, packed-dirt roadway that leads straight up the slight incline of a small hill in the distance. Beyond that hill is… nothing. It takes a few seconds for me to understand that the reason I cannot see anything beyond that hill is because it must mark the edge of a small plateau the settlement has been built on. And on the other, underside of that edge are… cliffs.

All this briefly registers in my mind as I watch Jasper's hand press down hard on the control ball he is wired to. The sudden increase in speed forces me back into my seat, and I can only watch in abject horror as we accelerate rapidly towards the end of the roadway.

The front of the shuttle tilts slightly upwards as we reach the top of the hill… and then the ground drops away below us… and then… then we are flying.

The sudden lift off the ground makes me feel light-headed, as though my body has not caught up with our launch. The roar of the engines has subsided; and the violent, shuddering vibration has instantly somehow stopped, as we now shoot noiselessly through the air. The only sound that breaks the sudden silence is the harsh panting of my breath.

Jasper glances at me worriedly, and asks if I am alright.

I nod, stammering out that I just need a little time.

"What?" I demand, when I catch him slowly begin grinning at me.

"You did good, little brother; much better than I did the first time," he admits.

"What happened your first time?"

"Well… " he laughs. "Let's just say you did a better job at keeping your breakfast down than I did!"

When I join in his laughter, I can feel my body let itself relax just a little… and some of the tension leaves the close confines of the space between us.

We spend the next few minutes in silence, as I watch Jasper adjust the angle and speed of our flight. He gently rolls the control ball and the shuttle leans to one side, as the front – or _nose_ , as Jasper calls it – tilts slightly downward towards the ground.

"Look out that window," Jasper nods.

When I do, I can just make out the settlement, spread out thousands of feet below us.

"I'm going to drop us down for a closer look," he tells me, before executing a series of descending spirals.

The clear, bigger dome over the dining room is easy to recognize, as are the outlines of the numerous underground corridors that radiate from it. I spot the smaller greenhouse dome at the end of one of those arms, then a large grouping of windmills that must be pumping all the water being used. There are, however, many other structures and machines that I am unable to identify.

Over the next few minutes, as we continue to circle the settlement, Jasper explains everything we are seeing. I learn about air ducts used to move air into and out of the buildings. He shows me shiny solar panels generating electricity, and sensors that gather and send information to the computer; and finally, as we gradually begin to regain altitude, he points out the cliff boundaries of what was once an island, surrounded by water, that the settlement was built on.

On our next pass, Jasper points to something outside the window; and I realize that I can see a thick area of the poisonous green fog that edged the Wastelands. Raising my eyes, I look forward, and there it is – its pointed tip barely visible, the cap of white snow shining in the sunlight.

"Olympus," I whisper.

The shuttle changes course, and now we are flying towards that tall mountain that marks the location of our home. Spread out below me is the dry, dusty expanse of the Wastelands itself. I can see rock formations, and faint lines that could be paths or trails crisscrossing over the sand, as Jasper dips the shuttle to fly closer to the ground.

Then I spot the mouth of the Ares Vallis canyon off to my right, and Jasper steers the shuttle towards it. From this height, it is easy to see the resemblance of the dried waterway to the striations on the map that Hunter had traced for me, in the archives room at our valley.

It is hard to grasp just how much my life has changed since that afternoon… only a few short weeks ago.

The canyon narrows, its rocky bed easy to follow as it disappears to the north. This is where the haboob bore down on me; where I ran for my life from the skin-flaying winds; where I sought refuge in the deserted city of Korith.

The shuttle banks sharply to the right – and then we are flying over Korith, abandoned forever on the edge of the canyon. After circling it once, Jasper turns back to the west, where we move over the cliffs that mark the edge of our plateau. And then, opening up below us, is… _our_ valley.

I can't help the 'Oh!' that escapes me, as I look down at the lush greenness that separates our valley from the stark browns surrounding it. The demarcation is so sudden – so _startling –_ that the exclamation leaves my lips without any thought.

Our valley is beautiful… so truly welcoming, in its verdant fertility… that I'm overcome by a wrenching sadness when I think about the future that awaits my home. That it is the last… and only place, above ground, where life still exists on this planet… makes its eventual demise all the more heartbreaking.

Jasper silently guides the shuttle into another wide circle, above and around the outer edge of the valley, before we begin to distance ourselves from the surface. I watch as the ground disappears below us; the life-sustaining green of our home gradually becoming lost in the overwhelming lifelessness of the dead browns and dull reds of the rest of the planet.

I watch until it becomes a giant rust-colored ball, surrounded by the inky blackness of space.

Father's words from the previous day, explaining the inevitable death of our planet, replay in my mind. I understand them, now, on a visceral level… as I glance, one last time, at the dying world beneath me… before Jasper angles the shuttle up to the sky; and we rush towards the space station – with the last ship waiting there – that represent the future for our people.

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AN: It is always exciting to gain a new reader, especially one that comments on each chapter. Thank you, Anita, for your kind words. Unfortunately, you are signed in as a guest, so I had no way to respond to your reviews; but I do want you to know how much I appreciated them. Thanks to everyone else who has read and commented, you know how much I love reading your thoughts.

Thanks, as always, to the wonderful Bellebiter, who cleans up my atrocious punctuation and organizes my ramblings. You make my words sound sooo good!


	29. Chapter 29

AN: I know it has been awhile since my last update. Thank you for waiting. Here is a brief summary of what happened in chapter 28.

Jasper surprises Edward with a trip to one of the settlement control rooms and the hangar bay. There Edward learns about the resupply runs to the space station and the truth about the accident that claimed Bella's parents' lives. Boarding one of the shuttles, Edward gets his first introduction to flying as Jasper treats him to a bird's eye view of the settlement, their valley and the Wastelands. Then turning away from the planet, they proceed to the waiting space station.

The Protector

Chapter 29

EPOV

Over the next couple of hours, Jasper and I discuss all things space, flying, and ship-related.

I bombard him with hundreds of questions that pop into my head.

How far away is the space station?

What does the term 'atmosphere' mean?

If we are above the 'atmosphere,' how can we continue to breathe inside the station or the shuttle?

And, speaking of the shuttle…

When – and how – did _he_ learn to fly it?

What is the power source?

Why isn't it just falling back to the planet?

If the space station, shuttles, and ships are old – built even before Avaro came to power – how is it that they still exist, and haven't fallen into decay?

What does he mean by a 'space vacuum' – and how does that protect the ships?

The questions flow one after another, each answer leading naturally to another question – and on to seemingly unnatural, new, reality-changing information to absorb when Jasper answers all of them, patiently, one by one.

It crosses my mind that he would make a good trainer, and an even better instructor.

Eventually, our main topic of conversation becomes the ship we are heading towards. My most immediate concerns center around why there is not enough room on board for everyone, and why it is so important for me to suspend time inside the ship.

From my brother's answers, I learn that although the ship is huge – bigger than anything we've ever seen – most of the interior is merely one enormous cargo hold; just an empty, cavernous enclosed space, built primarily to transport bulk metal ore that was, at one time, mined on our moons.

Our planet, he explains, contained only a few scattered deposits and veins of most of the metals and minerals our ancestors discovered they would need for their expanding technology. When these existing resources were soon exhausted, they ventured into space – theorizing that those same metals and trace elements detected in small rocks hitting our surface might also be found on our moons, or in a nearby asteroid belt.

A few years later, after exploratory missions in which they successfully identified deposits of what they were seeking, they eventually built ships to travel back and forth – ferrying small but highly specialized crews, trained to source and extract the metal ore they found there.

Since only a minimal crew was ever needed during those mining trips, the ship was never designed to hold, separate and dispense the massive amounts of water, food and supplies that would be needed; nor is it equipped with the capacity to process the waste that would be produced by such a large number of people, over the many months it will take to reach our new home.

And therein lies the problem: carry fewer people, with plenty of supplies; or, evacuate more people – with fewer provisions to sustain them.

The first option of leaving anyone behind is completely unthinkable; the second would result in unimaginable horror if some unplanned disaster struck, and all food and water ran out before the ship could reach our new home.

Yet my shield, with its time-stopping abilities, seems to solve that problem.

For as long as Bella and I can maintain it, all of our people should be able to leave on the ship, then remain safely onboard – suspended in a sort of mental and physical state of twilight, without the need for food or water – until we arrive at our destination.

Jasper also explains how my shield will protect the ship against any space debris that we might encounter during our journey. I find it hard to believe how something as small as a fist-sized rock could cause extensive damage to the ship; but he assures me that it is a real possibility, considering the substantial speed at which we will be traveling – referencing still _another_ concept I have trouble comprehending.

It is while we are discussing my shield and its abilities that Jasper suggests I practice opening it around the shuttle so I can experience how it feels. When I hesitate, not knowing how it will affect him, he reminds me that he and Bella were both able to function while inside it during our escape from the Yippers.

Surrounding the shuttle with my shield feels a bit odd. I know it is there; but I can't feel any pressure against it, or actually see it in the darkness outside the windows. Jasper coaches me to expand it, then contract it. I practice making it thinner, weaker; then I try strengthening it to a hard, solid enclosure. Each alteration affects my energy in a slightly different way – from an insignificant buzz of effort, to a determined push of exertion – and I concentrate on memorizing the way each one makes me feel.

Finally, Jasper recommends that I leave it open around the shuttle – then try to ignore it, as we eat a lunch he has provided and we continue our normal activities.

This proves much easier to do than I thought it would be.

The shield is there, just beyond my consciousness; yet I'm able to enjoy our meal and conversation, without actively thinking about it. My brother laughs at my smug satisfaction when I realize it has been well over an hour since I've thought about the shield; but it is still in the same location – still open, still protecting us, without too much effort on my part.

The confidence I gain from this achievement is immediately and badly undermined, however, when Jasper abruptly announces that it is time for my own first flying lesson.

Shaking my head in denial, I nevertheless pick up a headset like he is wearing, and – following his instructions – adjust it to fit over my head, ear, mouth, and eye. Then, I deliberately place my hand over the recessed panel beside me… and watch the rounded globe gradually emerge under my palm, as I carefully fit my fingers into the indentations on its sides.

Even though I am expecting the tiny wires that start to emerge, I'm still startled at the feel of them twisting over my flesh. I gasp in surprise when I feel a tiny prick on each finger tip and realize that a wire, or wires, have actually entered my hand. There is no real pain; just a slight tingling feeling where I am now throughly connected to the navigation ball.

I can hear Jasper's voice in my ear reassuring me that I am doing just fine, encouraging me to relax.

And then something happens.

For the briefest moment – a minuscule delay, between one blink of the eye and the next – I feel suspended; cut off from my senses, as if I have been… for a few subtle seconds… _paused_.

I feel a pressure in my head, a sense of someone or _something_ waiting just outside my mental awareness. When I open my mind, it is there: not fully human in its intelligence and power; but still strangely _human-like_ in its presence.

The foreignness of the contact causes me to hesitate before deepening our connection; but before I can explore the feelings further, I am distracted by a voice speaking in my ear.

"Welcome, Edward, son of Esme," it says. There is an odd quality about the voice. It sounds male; but its words are slightly altered, both in their rhythm and pronunciation.

"Who…? What…? How do you know who I am?" I finally manage to stutter out.

"Cora informed me you would be accompanying your brother, Jasper, today," it tells me. "When you placed your hand on the navigation ball, I took the liberty of testing a small sample of your blood to confirm your identity. I hope you don't mind that I did so, as it will facilitate our partnering in the future."

"Do you… do you have a name?" I ask, hesitantly. "What should I call you?"

For a moment, there is silence… and I begin to wonder if I have asked the wrong question. Then, suddenly, one of the large screens in front of us flickers on, and I see the image of an older man. He is facing forward; his head, shoulders and part of his chest visible. His clothing is nondescript: a cream-colored shirt, with no visible markings or insignia. Light brown hair, with a liberal sprinkling of gray and startling blue eyes, highlight an otherwise normal-looking face. There is nothing in the dark background behind him to indicate where he is, or to give any clues of his identity.

Although there is something vaguely familiar about him, I know I have never met him.

His eyes search the room around us, before focusing on me. "Hello, Edward, son of Esme," the voice repeats. This time, I hear the words in my ear piece, as well as from the man on the screen. His voice is deeper, the rhythm more normal. He smiles, slightly, and then greets me one more time.

"Hello, Grandson."

"Who… who are you?" I manage to choke out, my mind reeling from the possibilities of what he has said. "Are you Esme's father?"

"No, not her father. I'm actually her grandfather, too – though many, many times removed."

"I don't… I don't understand." Even as I say the words, I realize I _do_ know who he is; but the implications of admitting _that_ knowledge are more than I can accept at the moment.

Staring at the image in front of me, I finally manage a whisper. "Ares?"

"Yes."

And that one word suddenly shatters all the preconceived notions of reality that I have been clinging to over the past few days.

I've had to learn, understand, and accept so many new truths about my world and my place in it.

But that one, small word alone – uttered in a simple, declarative tone of recognition and reckoning – confirms there is a vast, entire and established hidden world of secrets still waiting for me. Existing secrets that will absolutely affect my every understanding about the past, present and future of time, and death, and existence.

I slump back into my chair, bewildered and confused. "But you're… you're…"

"Dead?" he chuckles, interrupting my stuttering. "You are correct, Edward. My physical body died long ago; but my intelligence and my personality were added to the computer when I modified its programming. What you are seeing is a representation… a recording of my face and my voice that was taken long ago, then stored on the computer. My image is being manipulated to help us communicate."

Frowning, I study his image, trying to understand his explanation. Am I speaking to a man, a machine, or something that is a combination of both? The strangeness of the entity I touched with my mind argues for a blending of the two.

Ares also watches me. His eyes blink, his head tilts, and his lips curve upward in a slight grin. I find it hard to believe that he is a projection on the screen and not a real person.

"You are trying to decide what I am, aren't you, Edward?"

Nodding, I admit to him and to myself that I still don't understand what he is, or how he came to be a part of the computer and this shuttle.

"It is a bit of a story; but I believe we have time for me to tell it – and even though Jasper has heard this before," he nods towards my brother, before turning back to me with another smile, "I don't think he'll mind hearing it again."

I glance at my brother, who is watching me closely. "Did you know about all this?" I wave my free hand towards the screen and the equipment in front of us. "You could have warned me, you know."

Jasper just smirks back at me, rolling his eyes before stating that I wouldn't have believed it until I experienced it for myself.

He's right, of course; nothing in my world at the time could have prepared me for seeing and speaking to the image of my revered ancestor, and the renowned hero of almost all our legends. Any explanation Jasper could have given me – or anyone else had offered, for that matter – would pale in comparison to the actual act of communicating with Ares on the screen and in my head. Even in the middle of our conversation now, I am still questioning what is real… or thinking, perhaps, that my understanding of what is _real_ needs to be changed… and broadened to accept a different conception of reality.

Overwhelmed by the direction of my thoughts, I store them away to be examined at another time; focusing my attention, instead, back to Ares – who is still watching me, patiently.

"Perhaps if you hear more of my story, it will help you understand what I am, Edward." When I nod, he continues. "I know that Esme has explained the circumstances surrounding the founding of our valley to you."

He pauses, waiting for my acknowledgment before beginning again.

"You know about our escape; the weapon that made it possible, and the agreements we had to make with the other cities in exchange for their help. It was an exciting, but also… _frustrating_ time."

"Exciting, because we were building a new society, a new way of living. Exciting, because – for the first time, ever – we had the real possibility of reuniting two factions of the same people who had been divided and separated, both by distance and ideology, for far too long."

Ares leans forward, warming up to his story as he continues.

"Imagine the physical and intellectual challenges! Oh, Edward, the engineer and scientist in me reveled in the planning for the water system; in the layout of the roads, villages and cities. There were fields and orchards to design and arrange; manufacturing centers for our cloth to establish; metals to process, and lumber to mill."

Ares face is alight and animated as he continues to talk about the early days of our valley. His eyes sparkle, and his eyebrows move dramatically when he smiles and frowns during his story. Faint lines and wrinkles appear and disappear, even as his facial expressions change so quickly that I can hardly keep up – though it is impossible to miss the excitement in every single note and tone of his voice.

I realize I am smiling and nodding, reacting to him in the same way I would to a person who was actually seated in front of me. A person who was real; a person who was alive.

"But Elizabeth was the most frustrating thing of all!" I hear Ares say, as I pull my mind from its musing, trying once again to concentrate on listening to the rest of his story.

"She was the most amazing person I had ever met. So talented, so powerful… and still so loving and forgiving, even after everything she had endured in her life." His face and voice have softened as he speaks of the founder of our valley.

"She was also the most stubborn, hard-headed, set-in-her-ways woman I had ever tried to deal with." He laughs then, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, before he continues, fondly. "We fought our attraction for a long time before we finally had to admit that our feelings could not be denied."

Ares pauses, and I watch as sadness slowly overtakes his face.

"I loved Elizabeth very much. After she passed on, I wanted to leave the valley. I missed her, Edward," he whispers, sorrow reflected on his face and in his voice. "But I had a daughter to raise, and a promise to keep. So I stayed."

I watch while he pauses again… his eyes unfocused, as if lost in his memories. After a moment he sighs, shrugs his shoulders, and begins to speak. Once again, I find myself reacting to him as though he were a real person; but at the same time, part of me wonders: how can he appear so life-like? How can he merely be an image that the computer is manipulating?

There _must_ be more going on here than I am currently understanding.

"Eleni was a remarkable woman," he continues proudly. "A unique combination of the best of Elizabeth's gifts and my scientific background, I watched her mature into a skilled leader and a successful administrator. After she was happily married, and had made me a grandfather several times over… after all the plans and safeguards were in place to protect our valley, and we had fulfilled our promises to the other cities… well that's when I knew it was time for me to leave."

"I know the Histories say I walked through the door in the wall and disappeared into the Wastelands. But what they _don't_ tell you is that I then proceeded directly to the underground settlement where I had grown up, joining the other scientists who had already foreseen that someday we would have to leave the planet."

"The environmental damage was past the point of no return even before Elizabeth and I released the weapon that destroyed Avaro's empire; but none of us had any idea how powerful Avarus' modifications had made it. The antimatter he had somehow managed to manufacture and add to the bomb set off a chain reaction when it exploded – ripping through our atmosphere, destroying the magnetic fields that protected us from the solar winds, and ensuring the ultimate death of our planet."

Ares looks away, shaking his head sadly, before focusing on me once more.

"A lot of innocent people died that day, Edward. I carried the guilt of my actions for the rest of my life; and the memory of that guilt is stored here, with me, in this computer."

An expression of deep remorse settles over Ares' face, and I can't help but wonder how terrible it must have been to live with the knowledge that you had caused so many deaths. The image on the screen is of a man humbled by that experience, not the proud hero of our legends.

When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, more subdued.

"Afterwards, when I realized what we had done, I dedicated myself to improving the life of the people left on our planet – and to finding a way to provide them with a safe escape, when the time came to leave."

"So, we began planning. We no longer had the materials or the technology to manufacture or build new spacecraft; we concentrated, instead, on keeping what we did have repaired, and in good working order."

"Our main emphasis was on the computers that served the ships and the settlement. This was my area of focus; and I spent the rest of my life finding ways to increase their efficiency and improve their performance. The first step was to unite them into one cohesive system, with all the individual components under the direction of one main program."

"The second step was to find a way to increase the ease and accuracy of communicating with the computer. The headset you are wearing – and the navigation ball under your hand – are two of my inventions. They led me to explore other more tactile, immediate and effective ways of uniting our minds with the machine."

My fingers – buried deeply into the indentions on the round globe, and wrapped snugly in the sensory wires – jerk spontaneously at his mention of our connection. I huff in annoyance at myself when I realize I've subconsciously tried to pull away from this strange union between machine and man.

Ares must have sensed my sudden discomfort, because he pauses in his narrative to give me time to settle myself, before continuing with his story.

"By the time my physical life came to an end, I had spent so much time connected to the computer that my memories, my thoughts – indeed, my very _consciousness –_ had all been stored and integrated within its data banks; and although it was not my original intention, I realized I had essentially become part of the electronic brain that is in control of the whole system."

"So. To answer your question about what I am, Edward: I am Ares. A person who helped found your valley; a man who once loved a woman named Elizabeth, and fathered Eleni, your ancestor. Everything that made me a unique individual is still here. But I amalso a computer; a thinking machine in charge of monitoring and controlling all the systems that operate this shuttle, the settlement, the space station, and the ship docked there."

"Right now, my consciousness is focused here with you and Jasper, while we are communicating; but at the same time, other operational parts of me are simultaneously and systematically performing all those functions I just mentioned."

"And just to make it even more confusing for you… "

Another grin creases his face, before he chuckles and continues.

"I am also the shuttle itself. _It is I, and I am part of it._ Just as your brain does the thinking and critical decision-making for your whole body, so I do the thinking and decision-making for this vehicle."

The frown on my face must convey my complete bewilderment, because Ares pauses in his explanation, giving me the time I need to consider the implications of his analogy.

I glance down at my knees, my toes, my elbows… all parts of me that I rarely think about, yet are used for all my daily activities. Is this what Ares feels? Are the ships, the settlement, the station all 'parts' of his body that continue to exist and function, even though he is not consciously thinking of them?

It is all too much to consider, to understand at this moment; and I shake my head in defeat, vowing to examine those thoughts another day.

When I look back to the screen, I find Ares watching me closely. He nods, as if to tell me he understands, before continuing his explanation.

"My primary objective is to ensure the safety of the shuttle, and all the people on it. If the need arose, I could pilot and operate this ship completely on my own; but when we link together, it enhances both our abilities to perform our mission. Your more immediate reactions and senses, that I can access when we are connected, might prove more efficient and capable at any singular moment than the thousands of sensors previously wired into this vehicle, when accessed alone. As a result of the symbiotic enhancement, our combined whole – working together, utilizing my pre-programmed procedures with your responses – becomes exponentially greater than our individual parts."

"For instance: I can sense and monitor the protective shield you have placed around us."

"You can?" I interrupt, in surprise.

"Oh, certainly," he continues. "Already, it has deflected several small amounts of atmospheric dust. Not enough to be dangerous; but still enough to prove that it is capable of protecting us. In fact, Edward, I believe you could lower the strength of the shield without altering its effectiveness – thereby requiring less of the energy drain I am detecting from your body – while it continues to maintain and perform its function."

Still confused by the concept of talking to a thinking machine, I hesitate… unwilling to completely trust our safety to something I don't really understand… until I hear Jasper's voice in my ear urging me to _just try it_.

"You agree?"

"Yes," he answers. "All three of us are linked together, and I can actually sense your shield through the computer. It's amazing, Edward!" he exclaims. "I had no idea what to expect."

Bolstered by their confidence, I concentrate on gradually lowering the strength of my shield… until I'm told that it is at the perfect level.

"Now, we'll be able to duplicate that same degree of protection on the larger ship, without over-stressing your body – and I'll be able to alert you in time, should the shield strength fluctuate too far above or below this level," Ares assures me.

"Are you ready to continue with your flying lesson, Edward?"

"Yes."

"Then let us begin."

Over the remaining hour or so of our trip, I learn all I can about flying and handling the shuttle. Jasper transfers the controls to me so I can experience the reactions between my thoughts, the shuttle itself, and the computer controlling it. Images appear on the large screens in front of us, and Ares directs me to maneuver the vehicle through a series of increasingly threatening obstacles.

I discover that the small screen in front of my left eye serves as a type of 'sensor' for the computer. By monitoring the subtlest shifting of my head angle and any changes in my eye focus, it can track my intentions and decisions even before I am aware that I am making them. Minute movements of my hand and fingers on the navigation ball signal my objectives through the technical tendrils wrapped around my hand and fingers. The tiny wires embedded in my fingertips constantly record changes in my stress levels, heart rate and respiration.

As we progress though each of the practice run scenarios, they become more difficult, more hazardous, and much more dangerous. Soon, I'm reacting purely on instinct – twisting and turning my body, scanning the screens for ways around and through, over and under the obstacles that appear, all with increasing velocity and imminent danger threats – depicted on the screen in front of us. I speed up, then slow down; increase the strength of my shield to ward off space debris, then quickly remember to lower it to save energy.

At one point, I actually tilt the shuttle on its thinnest, most tapered side edge in order to narrowly slip through a constrictive opening between two massive space rocks blocking our way.

All of this is done with a high amount of unexpected assurance, but without making or voicing a single conscious decision. The shuttle has somehow, suddenly but surely, become an extension of my body – and I've become the will that controls it.

When the screen clears, I'm left breathless. My heart is racing, I'm gasping for air, and my muscles are shaking with fatigue; but I'm also exhilarated, and almost giddy from the adrenaline rushing through my body.

A gleeful giggle begins working its way up my throat – and even though I choke and snort trying to contain it, I can't stop the jubilant peal of laughter that escapes my mouth.

"Oh, my… Did you…? Did you see…? " I start and stutter, trying to marshal my thoughts. "That was… that was amazing!" I finally exclaim.

Glancing over at my brother, I see the same excitement and exhilaration radiating from his own face; and then, we are both laughing – great, loud guffaws of mirth, releasing the tension from our shaking bodies.

"Well done, Edward," compliments Ares' voice in my ear. "Your physical reaction time is very impressive, and you displayed remarkable agility in using all four dimensions to avoid the obstacles around you. Integrating the use of your shield in certain situations was pure genius. I believe that in its hardest, most dense form, your shield could actually be used to push obstructions away from the ship, or vice versa. Hmmm. An unexpected, potentially valuable side-effect that I will need to consider further in the future."

"Thank you," I reply, cocking an inquiring eyebrow at Jasper.

"It means you done good, little brother," Jasper smirks back at me.

The blank screens in front of us blink to life again. This time, the image of the space station and its attachments – including an enormous ship that dwarfs them all in size – is displayed on the surface. It looks much like the picture Mother showed me in the archives room; but this one is missing most of the ships, pods and modules that were in the original photo.

"Would you like to try docking a shuttle to the station?" asks Ares.

"Sure," I reply, eager to practice flying the craft again.

"Then let us begin."

Over the next thirty minutes or so, as the station continues to grow bigger and closer on the screen, I listen to Ares' voice instructing me to change course, reduce speed, and align the craft with an oversized door that yawns open on one side of the platform. I'm directed to leave my shield at its lowest setting, to protect us in case of an accident, as I follow blinking red lights into the black maw of what is called a 'shuttle bay.'

The shuttle hovers for a moment, then lands with a realistic _thump_ before the screen darkens again.

"That was… " I turn towards Jasper, only to find him unfastening his harness and safety belts. "What are you doing?" I ask in surprise. "You said we needed to leave these on until we arrived."

"I know… and we did."

"But… " I start to protest, only to be distracted by the movement of the wires on my hand. They are quickly disengaging themselves, leaving a slight tingling feeling as they slither across my skin, disappearing into the navigation ball as it retreats back down into the panel.

I feel a sudden disconnect from the shuttle and the computer; I can no longer sense the weight and power of them in my mind. My shield has automatically retracted, too; and for one disconcerting moment – one minuscule, entirely unexpected fragment of time – I experience the absolute _oneness_ that is my physical existence. I know and understand why we seek out companionship; why family and friends are so important to our wellbeing.

To be alone, truly alone, is a frightening thing.

Even as those thoughts form in my mind, I feel the presence of someone… of something… hovering on the edge of my metal awareness. It is Ares. And with another sudden realization, I understand that this is what has been lurking, just below or beyond my consciousness, all afternoon.

This is what made me slightly wary of our interactions. This is why he seems so real in his reactions and movements on the screen. Because this is what Ares is: he is real.

My thoughts stray to my solitary trek across the plateau to Korinth. I remember all the life I felt as I jogged along the trail; all the small animals that froze on my approach, then resumed their lives after I passed them by. Sometimes if I concentrated hard enough, I could almost sense the plants that struggled to survive on that dry, dusty plain. I could feel them because they had energy, because they existed, because they had a real physical body.

But I can sense Ares, too. He has energy; he exists. And even without a physical body, he is real, too. Ares is alive in a whole different way, in a whole different reality of time and existence.

When we are connected through the navigation ball and the headset, I can feel the shuttle and the computer that guides it. I can feel the engines that power it, and and all the systems that operate it. I can feel the 'machine-ness' of it.

But I don't need that connection to feel Ares.

He is there, waiting on his own, separate from the machine. All I have to do is open my mind to touch him – and all the knowledge, all the emotions, all the experiences of this extraordinary man are waiting there to be explored and absorbed.

The ramifications of all the possibilities leaves me smiling in anticipation.

I picture myself with Bella… the two of us spending long stretches of our journey, connected to Ares… as he shows us the remarkable history of our planet. We'll both be able to experience, firsthand, the world as he knew it – as well as all the events that transpired, long before we were born. Together, we'll be able to feel his emotions: his pride, his joy, his sorrow, his love.

My mind races with eagerness and anticipation for all the stories we will hear, for all the opportunities of understanding what went before us – just waiting for us, now, to discover in our future.

A feeling of approval and of welcome touches my awareness, and I know Ares has sensed the direction of my thoughts. Before I can pursue them further, they are interrupted by Jasper's voice.

"We're here, Edward. You landed us safely."

My musing is brought to an abrupt halt when I hear my brother's words – and the sound of unlatching gear – as I realize I have actually flown and landed our shuttle inside the space station.

"But… I thought it was just practice!" I protest, looking back at the blank screens in front of us. "I could have crashed us, I could have… " my faces blanches at the possibilities.

"You did just fine," Jasper interrupts me. "Besides – Ares would have assumed control, if you had made any kind of serious mistake. Be proud of yourself. You did a great job."

The blank screen captures my attention again – especially when I remember the massive rocks and other debris hurtling by us, as I twisted and turned the shuttle to escape them.

"Jasper," I whisper, drawing his attention back to me. "Before… before when I was flying the shuttle around the rocks, when I was doing all that… that stuff… " I question, mimicking with hand gestures the flips and rolls of the shuttle. "That was practice, wasn't it?"

"Oh, please… tell me that was just practice," I beg, slightly nauseous, once again, at the thought of what could have happened.

Jasper just flashes me his usual smirk, telling me to take off the headset and the safety harness because we have a shuttle to unload.

With trembling legs, shaking hands, and a mind reeling from everything I've learned and experienced in the past few hours – trying at once to anticipate, yet not think about, what the future could hold – I silently follow my brother's lead… thankful to have something as mundane and ordinary as unloading supplies to distract my thoughts from protective shields, space debris, and an intelligent, thinking machine that is the incarnation of Ares… my ancestor, and the hero of my valley's history.

.

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Thank you for reading. Thank you to Bellebiter for her time and effort. I had a lot of trouble loading this chapter, so any mistakes are mine and the site's. LOL Thanks again.


	30. Chapter 30

The Protector

Chapter 30

EPOV

By the time I get free of everything, Jasper already has the shuttle door open and is lowering the ramp. We step outside, met by Gagan and his team. Introductions are made, and then we begin removing the boxes and containers of supplies, loading them on wheeled carts pulled by smaller rover-type vehicles.

When we are finished, I take a moment to glance around the shuttle bay. It is not as large or cavernous as the hangar back at the settlement; but it _is_ a very big room. Another shuttle, smaller and shaped differently than the one we flew, is parked nearby. I see a few scattered pieces of equipment; but most of the space is empty, stripped bare of any tools or extraneous parts.

The fresh supplies are delivered to a kitchen area, or 'galley,' in the station. We then unload them into a smaller, cooler room, where they will remain unspoiled until ready to be eaten. Most of the boxes, however, contain dried food or staples that can be stored in the ship we will be leaving on. I learn that the supplies will be used by Bella and me on the long journey to our new home.

Until now, the knowledge that we are leaving the planet on a huge metal ship… that we will be spending months by ourselves, while everyone else is suspended… that the safety of all our people depends upon my shield, and our ability to keep it powered and in place… has all seemed like some sort of story; a fanciful tale to entertain children, perhaps, or a farfetched plan that might happen sometime in the far away future. But listening to Jasper talk about supplies for the voyage – and hearing Gagan discuss alterations and additions that have been made to the ship, before declaring everything ready for our departure – has suddenly impressed upon me how real all of this actually is.

We _are_ leaving the planet.

We _are_ journeying through space to a new home.

And we _are_ , right now – at this very moment – provisioning the ship that will make all of this possible.

I must make some sound… or perhaps Jasper can sense my sudden panic… because he ends his conversation with Gagan, turning towards me to examine the distress on my face. After a brief moment, I feel a relaxing sense of calm overtake me, and I realize my brother has used his gift to provide me some respite from the doubts and worries assailing me.

Turning back to Gagan, he explains that he wants to show me the ship before motioning for me to climb into one of the rovers, and we begin making our way down a passageway connecting the station to the ship.

"Thanks, Jasper," I tell him, as soon as we are out of earshot. "I know what you did back there, and I appreciate it," I explain.

"Edward," he begins earnestly. "You are capable of doing this. Stop worrying, you are going to be fine; everything is going to be fine."

When I don't immediately reply, he stops the rover and faces me. "I know you feel overwhelmed; I know you are worried about what will happen. But remember, Edward: you are not alone! Years and years of work and planning by many, many people have brought us to this moment. Everyone is supporting you, believing in you. It's time you believed in yourself."

His words are meant to reassure me, to inspire confidence; but I find myself unable to meet his gaze, too afraid of revealing the crippling doubts I still have. Instead, I concentrate on rubbing my fidgeting hands along my pant legs, trying to dry the nervous moisture from my palms.

Jasper huffs impatiently when I don't respond to him; but his voice is softer, more encouraging when he resumes speaking.

"Listen to me, little brother. You just flew the shuttle through one of the worst debris fields surrounding our planet – and never once faltered, or made a mistake. You successfully guided one large moving object into another, even larger moving object – and landed it perfectly."

He gives me a shoulder bump, grinning when I scowl back at him. His humor is infectious, and I can't stop the smile that works its way across my face.

"Stop doubting yourself," he reiterates, clamping his hand on my shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze, "You are going to be just fine. Everything is going to be just fine," he chants, one more time. "Now – let's go see where you and Bella will be living for the next few months."

Jasper starts up the rover again, and we turn down another short hallway before stopping in front of a heavy-looking metal door. Several sliding bolts and locking clamps hold the door in place. The rods screech across the barrier as Jasper methodically pushes each one aside before we step over the high threshold into a small room he calls an 'airlock.' Once inside, he turns and carefully re-locks each mechanism for that entryway, then repeats the process on another entrance at the other end of the room.

The second door releases with a soft whoosh of air as we enter a narrow, cramped corridor. Turning to our left, Jasper explains that the other direction leads to the storage hold, and this way leads to the control room and living quarters.

The control room is a much bigger version of the one on the shuttle. There is still a wall of windows, which are now filled with the blackness of space; two pilot chairs, with their headsets and navigation balls, sit side by side in front of the windows. The rest of the perimeter of the room is filled with familiar-looking equipment and computer stations, much like the ones in the control room at the settlement. Jasper briefly explains most of them as we walk around the room.

We eventually pass through another door, into what will be our living quarters. The room brightens as we enter, and Jasper tells me the lighting is controlled by the ship's systems and responds to voice commands, demonstrating how to brighten and dim them. There is a comfortable-looking bed in one corner; two chairs with a table in another. He presses a shallow hand indention on one wall, and a panel slides open to reveal a storage area for clothing and personal items.

A narrower door opens into a small bathing room containing a one-person-sized shower enclosure and a sink. The toilet is tucked away behind yet another door, in an even smaller compartment. Jasper takes the opportunity to briefly explain the perplexities of water usage and waste disposal on the ship. The gray water from our shower will be filtered and reused in the remaining food-growing pod, which has been adapted and moved into the ship. Waste from the toilet will be collected separately, then jettisoned outside into space. Although there are enormous water storage tanks inside the hold, we will have to very careful with our water usage.

Exiting the room, Jasper leads me across the control room to another door on the opposite side, explaining that they did keep one other private living quarter intact; but all the rest of the crew housing has been removed, or adapted for the sleeping cots designed to hold our people during the trip.

"We're not sure how your shield will affect me or some of the others who we suspect have abilities, too. The extra quarters can be used by anyone who might wake up during the voyage," he tells me.

"But what about Bella?" I question, looking around the second room. "Won't she want to use this room?"

Jasper stares at me a moment before rolling his eyes, dramatically. "Well… she is certainly welcome to stay in this room," he replies. "But we assumed she would stay with you, Edward. Although," he continues, "if you two don't start communicating better, she may just choose to have her own room after all."

"In that case, you might get me for a roommate," he jokes, before leading me back into the cramped corridor. "Come on, let me show you the rest of the ship."

I'm more than ready to change the subject.

.

The tour of the remaining sections of the ship is a bit overwhelming.

Jasper shows me a tiny galley with equipment for preparing meals, as well as the adjoining storage area that has already been – and is still in the process of being – heavily stockpiled with dried and preserved food and staples. The reworked growing pod is adjacent to the kitchen. Bella's gift will be able to supply us with more than enough fresh fruits and vegetables to eat during the voyage.

There is a small hospital room equipped with medical supplies and instruments; there is also an archive room with shelves of reading materials, as well as a monitor screen which, Jasper explains, allows us to read journals and books that have been stored on the computer. And, finally, I spot a compact area for physical exercise and training.

Next, we walk through the crowded engineering section, with all its elaborate electrical, plumbing, oxygen scrubbing and water recycling machinery and equipment. Everything that makes the ship livable is here – controlled and monitored by the computer, by Ares. There are back-up systems for everything, specifically calibrated and designed with redundancies to keep us alive in case of an emergency.

The massive engines that produce the power to run these systems and move the ship through space are housed behind thick metal walls, accessible only through one small door – and only with cooperation from Ares – because of the extreme danger from something Jasper calls 'radiation.'

Once again, Jasper patiently answers all my questions as we continue our survey throughout the ship. He reveals that he has spent much of his time, ever since leaving the valley, working on the detailed plans and comprehensive preparations necessary for our departure.

When he leads me to the cavernous main storage hold, I can see with my own eyes just how much time and work has gone into those preparations.

The enormous space has been filled with platforms that jut out from the exterior wall and connect to a central stairwell. Each of the platforms – level upon level, disappearing into the darkness below us – is lined with sleeping cots; hundreds of cots, thousands of cots, bolted to the floor and equipped with restraining safety belts. Cots designed to cradle all the remaining people in our world during our journey.

"How is this all going to work?" I ask of my brother, as I stare at those empty sleeping beds.

"Well… " he begins slowly, as he leans on the railing, staring down into the depth below us. "Dr. Marcus has formulated a mild sleeping medication. After everyone is aboard and has settled into their chosen area, they will be instructed to take the pill. I'll use my gift to relax everyone and, hopefully, send them into a safe, deep sleep. Then I'll take the medication, lie down beside my Mary Alice," he glances at me, grinning, "and, once I'm asleep, you'll need to open your shield, suspending time for all of us – and we'll be on our way."

I chuckle at my brother's over-simplified description of what has been planned. "And you think it will be that easy, huh?" I tease.

"Absolutely," he smirks back at me. "Just like that… herd 'em in, put 'em to sleep, and speed off into space!"

He laughs out loud when I roll my eyes at him, shaking my head at his silliness. I realize that once again my brother has managed to calm my nerves and relieve my doubts. I feel a sudden rush of fondness and gratitude to my older brother, mixed with a sense of loss for all the time we have spent apart.

He's still grinning as he points to the topmost platform, just off to our right. "I'll be there with the rest of our family, along with anyone else who has any kind of gift or ability that might affect their reaction to your shield. That way, if they happen to awaken during the journey, they can easily find their way out of here and locate the control room."

Jasper stands, turning to leave the room, when we are interrupted by Gagan's voice asking for us.

"We're in the hold," Jasper replies, pointing to a metal grate overhead, from which the scientist's voice is coming. "What's going on?"

"We need you and Edward to return to the station immediately," Gagan explains. "We've been receiving emergency messages from the settlement about the storms in their area. The last update just came in, and things are deteriorating rapidly on the surface. You need to see this. Now!" he adds.

Jasper and I are out of the room, in the corridor, and running for the rover even before he finishes speaking.

The atmosphere is tense when we reach the station's control room. Several of the scientists are feverishly working at computer centers, frantically pushing buttons and controls, talking to each other in hushed voices. Before I can ask what they are doing, my attention is drawn to two large display screens on the wall above us.

One is flickering on and off, lines and faint images flashing… but never completely coming into focus… with a static, buzzing sound emitting from it. The other screen is filled with brown and orange swirls. Jasper steps closer to it, studying it intently.

"Storm?" he asks.

"Yes," Gagan nods. "A bad one, worse than anything we've ever seen before."

A growing sense of dread fills me, and I almost want to stop Jasper from asking the next question, because I already suspect… no, I already know… the answer.

"Where?" he whispers.

Gagan doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he turns to some controls and the image resets itself, pulling away so that we can see more of the planet.

"This is what was happening when you left this morning," he explains, as he indicates the location of the settlement on the map. "There were three smallish storms in the vicinity." Again, he points towards the screen, marking three distinct areas of dark, roiling dust clouds.

"You and Cora discussed them, and decided they were no immediate danger to your flight before you lifted off. _This_ is what has been happening since you left." He touches more buttons, and we watch as the storms slowly begin to move across the screen.

"Normally, the storms move in the same direction, with straight winds, much like the haboobs that form north of Olympus," he explains. "But these storms didn't behave normally. As the sun rose and the ground began to heat, we started seeing rotation in the winds."

He pauses in his explanation, giving us time to observe the circular motion in each of the dust clouds.

"And then things started getting really weird. Instead of repelling each other and moving away in opposite directions, the storms seemed to exert an attraction towards one another… as though the winds were pulling them together… and they began advancing on a collision course."

We watch in shocked horror as the three rotating storms rapidly increase in size, speeding towards each other until they collide – forming one enormous, revolving disturbance that explodes into an immense, angry, churning tempest – directly over the top of the settlement.

.

"Have you received any communications from the settlement?" Jasper finally breaks the silence, shifting immediately from shocked observer to trained Protector.

Gagan touches a few more controls, and the static-filled screen clears, showing an image of Cora. "We started getting reports about two hours ago," he answers. "This was the first one."

"Gagan," her voice fills the room, as the image begins moving. "Are you monitoring the storms in our area? Sensors are picking up what looks like possible wind rotation within the storms. Rotation, Gagan!" she continues, surprise on her face and in her voice. "I know you've spoken of observing storms like this on the other side of the planet; but we've never had them here before. Please keep us advised."

"Thirty minutes later, we received this message."

The screen blanks out, and then resets with another recorded message from Cora.

"Received your communication," she begins. "Esme and the council have been briefed on the potential dangers you cited. We have confirmed rotation within each storm, and are observing them closely for any increase in wind velocity or alteration in forward motion."

Cora is momentarily distracted by a loud banging, and voices begin shouting somewhere near her. She disappears for several minutes before reappearing on the screen, worry clearly etched on her face. "The storms are moving, Gagan. Instead of dispersing to the south or west as we forecast, they all seem to be forming some sort of anomalous combined front, advancing in our direction! Esme has ordered first level emergency procedures. Please immediately transmit any available predictive date… or advised protocol… or…

The image dissolves into a series of crackling, hissing noise, interrupted from time to time by brief glimpses of Cora's face. Her lips are moving; but we are unable to understand anything she is saying. The screen eventually goes blank again.

"After we lost communication with the settlement following that message, we began realigning our receivers and adjusted the orbit of the station so that we are directly over it. We've been able to boost the strength of our transmissions to the planet, thus increasing our capacity to receive their outgoing communications."

Gagan stops his explanation long enough to ask one of the technicians if everything is ready. Receiving an affirmative, he turns back to us. "This last message came in about ten minutes ago. It was still disjointed and garbled; but we put it through one of Ares' translation programs, and managed to clean it up a bit. Here it is."

Everyone in the control room watches as Cora's face fills the screen once more. The picture is blurry, and the sound doesn't quite match her image; but the panic is still easy to see and hear.

"I'm uncertain how much of this message you will receive, Gagan; but I had to try and update you on our situation. We have advanced to critical level emergency status. All non-essential personnel have been evacuated to the lowest underground level of the settlement. As soon as this transmission is completed, the control room will be shuttered and our ow staff evacuated, too."

The lights in the room begin to flicker, blinking on and off intermittently. We can see movement behind Cora, and hear someone shouting instructions about emergency auxiliary lighting. For a moment, the room darkens completely before the lighting is restored. Cora moves closer to the monitor, leaning towards us as she hurries to finish her report.

"External windmills have collapsed, but we have maintained access to all stored water reserves. Unfortunately, the air intake and recirculation system was compromised with dust and debris before we could get it closed and sealed. One of the technicians volunteered to go outside and manually secure the controls to the network in order to shut it down."

We watch as Cora bites her lip, swallowing back her emotion before she continues. "We haven't seen or heard from him since," she whispers.

The image on the screen suddenly begins to shake and tilt, as though the equipment is being tossed about. When it stills, Cora's face once again appears on screen; but the door behind her slams open before she can say anything. The room around her is filled with a growling roar, the deep pitch of the lowest notes making my bones ache – and the shrillness of the higher notes setting my teeth on edge. The sound must be almost unbearable for those in the settlement.

The din is gradually lessened… and then, slowly, silenced… as we watch one of her staff struggle to fasten the door shut. Cora tilts her head back towards him as they exchange words, too faint for us to decipher. When she turns back to face the screen, she is pale and visibly terrified.

"The dome over the greenhouse just collapsed," she continues, her voice shaky as she struggles to find her composure. "So far, the door is containing the dust and debris; but the space is filling quickly, and the door is not designed to withstand that kind of pressure. We don't… we don't know what will happen when it gives way."

"We've also lost the yellow corridor… the one with the windows, where the hospital and medical facilities were located. The wind… Gagan, the wind," she shudders, before beginning again. "It catches everything – anything that is loose, anything that protrudes above the ground. One moment, it is scouring everything clean; the next instant, it is piling up huge drifts of sand and dirt. It caught the edge of the overhang above the windows, and peeled the roof off, completely, in one huge piece that disappeared into the sky."

Cora's voice has dropped to a faint whisper by the time she finishes speaking. Although she is desperately trying to maintain her composure and professionalism, the fear on her face and in her voice is impossible to hide. She leans forward as if to continue, but then abruptly stops – her eyes widening before glancing upwards, as though studying the ceiling above her. Then she is moving, her body leaning towards the windows in front of her. The deep, groaning sound of failing metal fills the room.

The next few minutes of the recording are a jumble of noise, voices and blurred movement. We can hear Cora arguing with someone before she appears on the screen once more.

"I'm being evacuated," she explains, her words escaping in a rush. "That sound you probably heard was one of the metal roof supports over the control room starting to bend. It hasn't failed – yet – and the others seem to be holding up, so far; but I'm told it is too dangerous to stay here any longer."

"I'm… " Before she can finish her thought, we hear another voice in the room telling her to leave. "But… " she protests, turning to someone beside her that we cannot see.

"No buts," the voice continues. "I am giving you a direct order, Cora. You've done your duty. Now leave your station, and proceed directly to the emergency shelter."

Jasper and I both recognize that voice at the same time. He takes a step closer to the screen, and I hear him murmur _"Mother?"_ before we watch Cora nod and sigh, answering with a subdued "Yes, ma'am."

She turns once more to the screen. For a long moment, she is quiet… staring at us from a settlement thousands of miles below us. She lifts her hand towards the screen as though trying to reach out one last time… and then, in a voice filled with hesitancy, regret, and finality, she whispers, "Goodbye, Gagan," before rising from her chair and leaving the room.

I glance towards Gagan, wondering at the implied intimacy in her last words, only to find him staring intently at the screen. His hands are clenched, his brow furrowed with worry. My movement catches his eye; but before he can speak to me, another person takes Cora's place, and our attention turns back to the screen.

It is, just as we suspected, our Mother whose image fills the viewer before us. She appears calm and in control as she settles herself into the chair facing the monitor.

"Gagan," she begins, nodding at the screen in greeting before addressing the rest of the crew by name. "We have no way of knowing if you are receiving this transmission or not. I'm sure you and your team have probably repositioned the station and all your receivers by now, and are focusing your power and resources on acquiring this message."

"Cora has told you about most of the situation – and I'm sure you can infer the rest." Mother pauses and stares at the screen for a moment, as if trying to convey an unspoken message… or marshal her thoughts.

"We have plenty of water, food and medical supplies. The solar collectors are gone, of course; but the energy storage units are full, and we should have plenty of power for as long as we need it. The air supply will be our only problem; but the technicians are already working on an emergency scrubber to recycle the oxygen in the carbon dioxide we breathe out. With careful monitoring of our supplies, we should be just fine until this storm blows over."

"And so," Mother says, squaring her shoulders and looking intently at us. "Jasper and Edward should have landed on the station by now. This message is for both of them." Authority suffuses her face and voice when she speaks again.

"I know you, my sons. I know you well enough to know that your first inclination will be to hurry back down here to try some type of rescue or help mission. But I am ordering you, as leader of this settlement and of our valley, to stay away from this area. We will be just fine until this is over, and it is much too dangerous for anyone to risk getting close to these storms."

"Hear me now: your number one priority is to stay safe, and complete the task you have been assigned. Deliver the supplies; then proceed directly to the valley, and begin the preparations for moving our citizens to the ship, so that evacuation from the planet can proceed as planned. As soon as it is possible, we will dig out and join you there."

Mother leans forward, the seriousness on her face reinforcing her next words.

"Do you understand what I am saying, Edward, Jasper? No matter what happens here… no matter what you _think_ is happening here… you are under a direct order to keep yourselves safe from any danger by avoiding this area completely. The fate of our society and our people depends upon the two of you obeying orders and completing your mission."

There is movement behind Mother, and we can hear Father telling her it is time to leave. She answers him, calling out over her shoulder that she is coming, before she turns back to the screen. For one long moment, she stares at the monitor; and we watch, as conflicting emotions race across her face.

Finally, as if reaching a decision, she leans in, smiling warmly.

"I want you to know that Carlisle and I are very proud of you. You've matured into responsible young men, and we feel so lucky to call you our sons. We love you both, and we'll see you as soon as this storm leaves the area."

Father's voice calls out again, louder this time, urging her to leave. It is only after she stands up and moves aside, her image no longer filling the screen, that we realize Bella and Mary Alice are also in the room behind her. Both young women are standing beyond the now vacant chair, hands gripping each other tightly, as they stare at the screen.

Unable to hide their emotions like Cora or Mother, the two of them are obviously terrified. Mary Alice's lips move, and it is clear she has just called out my brother's name; but her voice is drowned out by more screeching metal, as the room around them begins to fill with dust. Part of a hand and arm reaches out to grab the girls, as the scene becomes even more chaotic. A revolving red light and a loud warning klaxon have added to the maelstrom. We can now hear constant, unrelieved yelling and screaming in the background, coming from all sides.

For one brief moment, the air clears… and I can see Bella, leaning in towards the screen… as her features contort… and her lips begin moving rapidly, urgently shouting something at us. I can almost make out what she is saying before the growling roar of the wind eclipses all sound in the room.

Our last glimpse of the control room is a swirling mess of dirt and debris, driven by the shrieking howl of the wind, before the screen blacks out and turns off.

There is complete silence in the room when the transmission ends.

Stunned by what we have just seen, no one seems inclined to break the stillness enveloping us. When I glance at Gagan, I find him staring at the now blank monitor, a tiny muscle ticking in his tense jaw. His crew is the same. Unwilling to look at me, they shift their faces away when they catch me watching them. Dread begins to spread its way through my body as I realize they know something that I don't.

I turn then to my brother, hoping to find relief for the worry bubbling inside me. But he is rigid – ashen-faced and tight-lipped – when I hesitantly speak his name. Then, as I watch, he seems slowly to deflate… crumbling in on himself, as he stares at the screen… whispering Mary Alice's name, over and over.

"Jasper! Jasper!" I shout – grabbing his shoulder, shaking him to get his attention, and forcing him to look at me. "What is it? What are you not telling me? Mother said they would be okay, that everything was being handled. We just need to wait out the storm, right?"

By now, I'm yelling at my brother, screaming in his face, demanding answers that he seems reluctant to give me. "Tell me what is going on," I plead desperately.

My distress must finally register with Jasper, because he stares at me, sorrow and anguish marring his features. "She lied," he whispers.

"What?" I frown at him; hearing his words, but not understanding what they mean. "Who lied?"

For a long moment, I think he is not going to answer me, as I watch him turn back towards the blank screen with a glazed expression.

"Mother lied," he finally responds. "She was lying, Edward – about the settlement, about their preparations, about their status. Mother knows they aren't going to survive the storm. She knows by the time it finally dissipates, most of the structure will have collapsed. They'll be buried under so much wreckage and dirt that it will take days of constant digging to locate them; but their oxygen will have run out long before they can be found."

"All my life… " he continues, shaking his head slowly. "All my life, she always told me the truth. Whatever the question was, no matter how difficult or uncomfortable; whatever I asked, she _always_ told me the truth. Mother never lied to me, Edward; _never,_ not once. Until today."

Jasper shifts his stance until he is facing me once again. Sadness, despair, and utter hopelessness have replaced his customary cheerful grin, as he once again repeats those terrible words.

"Mother lied today."

My brother turns his back on me then; and I watch him walk away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He takes a seat in one of the chairs, angling it to face the wall as he leans over his knees, burying his face in his hands. The rest of the crew seems to take that as the signal to return to their stations, quietly busying themselves with whatever chore they can find.

I'm left standing in the middle of the room, staring at that blank screen, as if it contains all the answers to the turmoil inside me. Mother looked so calm, so professional when she spoke. She had fooled me completely; but not Jasper. His gift had let him see behind her facade, beyond her words of assurance. Mother _had_ to know that Jasper could see she was lying. How hard it must have been for her to continue to give us orders and remind us of our mission… knowing, all the while, that Jasper understood exactly what she was doing by warning us away from the settlement.

Her words of love and pride replay in my head. Yes, I realize, she had known exactly what was happening – and what the ultimate outcome would be – and had taken that last opportunity to express her feelings.

As I stare at the monitor, replaying my mother's final words, I suddenly remember the next image of Bella leaning forward, desperately shouting something before she was suddenly cut off from view. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the memory of her face burned into my mind, while trying to duplicate the movement of her lips with my own.

With sudden clarity, I understand what she was saying to me.

"I love you, Edward," she had mouthed. "I love you."

Then, instead of acknowledging the hopelessness of the situation by saying goodbye or farewell, Bella had added three more words. And she'd done it knowing that by saying them, she would be sending me into a scenario much more dangerous than the one that had taken her parents' lives.

"Use. Your. Shield."

Somehow, Bella still found the courage and the strength to overcome her fears, to believe in me and in my gift.

Bella had ordered me to use my shield.

Straightening my back and squaring my shoulders, I take a deep breath – preparing myself to take charge, and then explain to those in the room what will be happening next.

If Bella can face her fears, then so can I.

If she can believe in me, then so can I.

I know exactly what I am going to do.

.

.

AN: Thank you to Bellebiter for cleaning up this chapter, and thank you, readers, for your responses and kind words. Your reviews are always appreciated. All remaining mistakes are mine. No copyright infringement is intended.


	31. Chapter 31

The Protector

Chapter 31

EPOV

As I stand in the middle of the quiet control room contemplating what I am about to do, my father's words from yesterday repeat in my head.

He reminded me that by swearing my Oath, I had become an adult – a man and a citizen, who had accepted all the responsibilities of both – for family and community.

He also compared me to Elizabeth, my ancestor, who had changed her life – and the lives of all those around her, their present _and_ their future – by using the power she possessed to find them a new home, a new beginning, a new way of life.

Father said I would be their Elizabeth; that I would save my people.

I know he was talking about my shield, my gifts, and how they would ensure our safe departure from a dying planet. At the time of our conversation, I believed shielding the ship on our voyage would be my greatest challenge; that it would be the physical acceptance of my role as a responsible adult – a Protector in the truest sense.

But I know now that safeguarding the ship will be a simple task compared to what I am about to undertake.

 _This_ is the moment all my discipline, all my preparation, all my training has led me to.

 _This_ is the moment I truly accept _all_ my responsibilities – as an adult, as a man, as a son, as a citizen, as a Protector.

As a leader.

I am ready.

.

"Ares?" my voice rings out, shattering the heavy silence in the room and drawing the crew's attention to me.

"Yes, Edward?"

"Do you have diagrams of the underground settlement? And if so, could you display them on the viewing screens, please?" I hear Jasper's chair creak as he pushes it back and stands.

Two of the large screens in front of us blink on. The first shows the plateau from above, with the outline of the settlement highlighted in green. The second screen is a side-view. I'm surprised to see that the rooms and hallways are not all on the same level. The yellow corridor is closest to the surface, only half of it below ground; but the rest of the settlement seems to gradually slope downwards, even deeper beneath the flat side-view is hard to understand, however; the multitude of overlapping outlines make it difficult to comprehend exactly what I am seeing, and it doesn't give me the information I'm looking for.

"Can you… ?"

Even before I finish my request, Ares has adjusted the diagram on the screen. This time, each corridor is in three dimensions, and shown in its corresponding paint color. The whole thing then begins to slowly rotate. The individual wings can now be studied from all angles, including their relative placement below the surface. As they come into view, their position in the outline on the other screen glows brighter.

The yellow corridor ends in the dome-covered dining room, from which multiple hallways radiate outward like spokes on a wheel. As the diagram turns, I see the blue hallway with the archives room, and the greenhouse dome with its connecting corridor. Another two turns, and I finally spy what I am looking for.

"Stop here, please, Ares."

I'm concentrating on the passageway that ends in the control room and the shuttle hangar. The diagram shows the control room very near the surface; but the hangar itself is situated much farther down below ground level. It is what is beneath the hangar that has grabbed my attention: there appears to be yet another room below that large space.

Jasper walks over to stand near me while I am studying the drawing. "What are you doing, Edward?" he asks softly.

I ignore him, choosing instead to ask Ares about the room that has captured my interest.

"This is the emergency evacuation safe room," Ares explains, as he enlarges the diagram to show more detail of the space. "The people in the settlement would have moved to this chamber to escape the storm."

The diagram shift reveals the room to be embedded far deeper underground than any other; this is confirmed when Ares tells me it was originally carved from solid bedrock.

"Is there any chance that the ceiling could collapse from the storm?"

"No," he reassures me. "It is built into the rock, and reinforced with heavy metal supports. They are safe there – as long as water, food and air supplies are maintained."

I'm aware of Jasper fidgeting beside me as I continue to study the settlement diagram and the information Ares has given me. My brother is impatient, and doesn't like being ignored. I suspect he knows exactly what I am doing; but acknowledging the fact that I am considering disobeying our Mother's orders is causing him to panic.

"Edward! Edward, what do you think you're doing?" Jasper's voice is more demanding – and this time, I turn to look at him.

"Planning a rescue mission," I answer, before quickly facing the screen once again to ask Ares to show me the entrance and exit locations.

The diagram is immediately rotated, so that the every passageway access is clearly positioned on the map.

There are four in all. Two stairways lead upwards into the hangar: one near the outside doors, and one close to the control room. Another tunnel connects to the greenhouse, and there is one more located close to the junction of the yellow corridor and the dining room.

Knowing that the dome over the greenhouse has collapsed, and the roof from the yellow corridor is missing – thereby blocking those two routes – I realize we will have to access the room from the hangar only.

"What is the probability that the hangar has been, or will be, compromised before we can reach the settlement?"

Ares does not answer me immediately; I can sense that he is examining all the information he has before formulating a reply.

"The main part of the hangar should survive without any major damage," he begins. "We know from watching the last message that the supports over the control room collapsed, so it is safe to assume that at least some wreckage has breached the hangar from that location. The other problem area would be the outside doors. Although there is heavy reinforcement on that end of the hangar, it is also more exposed to the storm, and could have sustained greater damage because of its location. It is possible, considering the velocity and the direction of the wind, for some twisting or bending of the metal framing supports to have occurred."

"Can the doors be opened?"

"I do not know their current status, Edward. I am not able to access the computer at the settlement. The storm is blocking all my attempts."

By now, Jasper's patience with me ignoring him is long over.

"Edward!" He grabs my shoulder, compelling me to face him. "You can't do this!" he shouts – before forcing himself to take a calming breath. When he resumes, his voice is closer to normal, more persuasive in tone.

"You were… _we_ were… given a direct order to stay away from the settlement, for as long as the storm continued. Mother told us to complete our mission, to perform our duty. You can't disobey orders, Edward. You just… you just can't do this."

All of my life, I've been taught and trained to follow orders. Obedience has been an integral part of me since childhood. I've never truly questioned or considered not obeying any command that was given, because I knew – at least subconsciously – that orders were an important part of our society, and essential to the functioning of our daily life. I also knew that most of them were reasonable and sensible.

But after everything I've learned and experienced in the last few months, I can no longer blindly accept what I have been taught or told to do. By giving my Oath, by accepting my role as an adult, by assuming the responsibility that has been placed on me, I've given myself permission to disobey orders when, and if, the situation warrants it. I _can_ disobey orders, I _will_ disobey orders, and in this particular case, I simply _must_. I have no other choice.

And so, I face my brother and I inform him that I can, and that I will.

"Besides," I add, "It's not like _you_ didn't change your mission when you met – and then _stayed_ – with Mary Alice. A person could argue that you disobeyed orders then."

Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare back at my brother, daring him to disagree with me.

"The question is: are you are going to help me, or not?" Cocking my eyebrow at him, I grace him with an irritating smirk, hoping to goad him into abandoning his disciplined reasonableness.

But Jasper doesn't fall for my ploy. Instead, he studies me carefully before beginning his arguments.

"You're risking their lives," he gestures at the crew, who are listening intently to our discussion as they slowly gather around us. "If something happens to you… if you are injured or killed… it will seal the fate not only of this crew, but of every man, woman and child in our valley, Edward. They'll be stuck here, on this dying planet… because no one can leave without you! You are the key to our survival."

His words are serious, fervent, and deliberately designed to sway me with their emotional appeal; but they don't. And the stubborn set of my determined features only fuels his frustration.

"Dammit, Edward, you _know_ this; I shouldn't have to remind you!" He moves closer to me, anger flaring across his face as he continues to yell at me.

"Is what you want… is what I want… more important than all their lives? Are you willing to risk that? Are you willing to take that chance?"

A tiny seed of doubt is planted in my head as I listen to Jasper's argument. He is right, of course. What I am doing is risking everything… years of planning, hard work and preparation, as well as the lives of thousands of people… all on an uncertain gamble of a rescue mission.

But it is a chance I am willing to take because I can not – and will not – face a future without Bella, without the people I love.

With all the confidence I can summon, I look my brother in the eye, and I tell him that, yes, I am willing to take that chance – because to blindly follow orders… to carry on with our duty, while failing to protect the people who need our help the most… to not even _try_ to save their lives – is a regret I am unable to live with.

With a glare, Jasper turns away from me, stomping his way across the room – where we watch him pace back and forth, muttering to himself about stupid, stubborn, and strong-willed siblings – all the while.

I know he is not really angry with me. It is the frustration fueled by the situation we are in, and the choices he is struggling with, that are causing him to react with such fiery annoyance. After several minutes of observing him argue with himself, I approach him hesitantly.

"Jasper. Less than an hour ago, you were the one telling me that things were going to be fine; you were the one telling me to believe in myself. Now, I'm the one asking you to believe in me. I can do this. I can wrap my shield so hard and fast around the shuttle that _nothing_ will be able to penetrate it. But we can't wait too much longer. We have to get to the settlement, before everything collapses; before it's too late."

He stops his pacing to listen to me, but only shakes his head in denial at my words.

"You don't understand, Edward. The wind… the force of that wind can flay your skin from the bones. It will peel the metal from the shuttle before we know it's happening; and even if your shield _can_ protect us from the worst of it… "

"I do understand," I shout, interrupting him before he can continue. "Have you forgotten? That I was on the ground, out in the open, in the middle of the canyon, when the haboob hit? I _do_ understand about the wind! But I survived with my shield… and we can survive _this_ with my shield."

"The haboob," he snorts in disgust. "The worst of the haboobs doesn't even begin to measure up to the strength of that storm down there. And besides," he continues, jabbing his finger at me as if to emphasize his point, "you only experienced the leading edge of the storm; by the time the worst of it hit, you had already made it safely to Korinth. If you'd been caught out in the middle of it, we probably wouldn't be having this conversation today."

Jasper turns his back to me and resumes his pacing, arguing with himself as he tugs on his hair in frustration. Finally, with a resigned sigh and a shrug of his shoulders, he faces me again.

"Edward, I… I want to believe you, I do; and I want – more than anything I've ever wanted in my life – to go to the settlement and rescue Mary Alice, along with everyone there. But you don't understand," he pleads. "Straight-line winds can be managed. A smart pilot will keep them at his back, will stay in front of them; but if you try to fly across them, the winds will start flipping the shuttle. You'll lose control – and not even you, nor I, nor Ares, or even all three of us together _and_ your shield – will be able to keep the shuttle from crashing."

"It can't be done, Edward. I wish I could tell you otherwise; but… I'm sorry. It just… it just can't be done." Face filled with despair and hopelessness, Jasper whispers those last words of regret.

Even before he is finished, I am shaking my head – a wry smile threatening to break free as I offer him the hope I know he is longing for.

"Then I guess it's a good thing we'll be flying _with_ the wind and not across it."

While Jasper frowns at me in confusion, I ask Ares to project the current image of the storm on the screen.

"Look at it, brother," I urge. "Look at the shape of it… it's round. We enter at the top, flying in a circle, gradually _spiraling_ down – just like you did this morning – until we get close enough to open the hangar doors. Then, we steer the shuttle at a slight angle towards the opening, and let the storm push us into the building. The wind will be at our backs the whole time, until just before entering the hangar; and even then, we'll only be sliding at a slant through it, with most of the force still behind us. Never once will we actually fly across the wind, or into it."

"We can do this, Jasper!" I encourage. "Together, we can do this."

By the time I've finished explaining, Jasper has stepped closer to the screen. I watch as he examines it intently, repeating my words to himself as he visualizes the flight pattern I've suggested. Slowly, he begins to nod; a small, hopeful expression barely daring to replace the resignation from earlier.

"Ares, will you be able to open the hangar doors if we get close enough?" he asks.

"Yes, if they are not too damaged."

"We'll have to use the big shuttle if we want to have a chance of getting everyone out of there in time."

Jasper turns to look at me – and I can see he is beginning to believe in the mission, as he abruptly shifts into planning mode.

"Even then, it will take hours to ferry everyone from the planet to here. We won't have very much turn-around time… and we'll be cutting it very close. Plus, it is going to take hours just to get down there."

"We're not going to bring them up here," I answer him. "We're going to take everyone directly to the valley. The flight should take about thirty minutes. We can unload and be on our way back for another group in less than an hour."

"Ares?" I ask. "Can you calculate how many trips it would take to evacuate everyone from the settlement, if we use the larger shuttle, please?"

"There are currently 379 people in the settlement," he answers me. "Two hundred of those are women, girls, and younger teen males. Based upon their lighter weight, you should be able to carry all of them in one trip – and the remaining 179 men in another trip. However, this would require disposing of any cargo or extraneous weight from the shuttle. I would recommend removing the seating, cargo bin dividers, webbing, and anything else that can be dismantled and jettisoned. Be advised that even with these measures, the shuttle will still be at its maximum capacity, making it harder and more unwieldy to control and fly safely."

During Ares' speech, we've all gradually drifted closer together in front of the screen. Jasper is nodding his head enthusiastically as he considers Ares' information. Gagan and the crew have moved next to us, and I can see the hope and relief on his face as he listens and watches us plan the mission.

"Did you hear that, brother? Two trips, that's all it will take. We leave here, fly as straight and as fast as we can to the settlement. We spiral our way down to the door; once in, we make our way to the emergency shelter. Then we bring everybody up to the hangar… and with everyone working, we strip the big shuttle to its bare bones. The men go back down to the safe room, the women, girls, and boys board the craft, and we spiral back up and out as fast as we can. We repeat that one more time, and it's done!"

"Quick and easy," I boast, brushing my hands together before shrugging my shoulders. "In and out – and then everyone's safe and secure in the valley."

I'm breathing rapidly by the time I finish my very quick, very enthusiastic summary of the mission.

Jasper is nodding, and his trademark smirk is back as he agrees that it is doable. I grin back at him, nodding, too, as we both acknowledge – in an unspoken agreement – that we are going to disobey orders and rescue the settlement.

Knowing we have no time to waste, we turn towards the exit to make our way to the shuttle bay; but Gagan's voice stops us before we can leave the room.

"Take the other shuttle," he suggests. "It's smaller, more stream-lined. The cylinder shape should be easier to control in the wind, and it's almost twice as fast."

"You made the modifications to the engines?" Jasper asks him.

"Yes, they've been tested and retested. Everything is working properly. At top speed, it should cut your travel time back to the settlement by half."

Jasper offers his thanks, before moving towards the door again.

"Gagan?"

"Yes, Edward."

"Are you able to communicate with anyone in the valley?"

"Yes… " he answers slowly. "Normally, if your parents are not there, I can contact the Head Matron or Hunter. Why? Do you need me to send them a message?"

"Please," I ask. "Tell them what is happening, what Jasper and I are going to do. The people from Korinth are going to need someplace to stay when we get them to the valley. They'll have lost everything, so they will require clothing and basic supplies. I imagine they will be hungry, too, by the time we get them out of the settlement."

"Oh, and Gagan," I add, glancing around to make sure Jasper is far enough away to be unable to hear me. "Ask them to have the medical division on alert. It's possible we will have some injuries… or worse."

He studies my face intently, before nodding, once, in silent understanding.

Yet as I turn to follow my brother out of the room, I think I hear him whisper, softly,

"Safe journey, Protector."

.

.

AN: As always, a heart-felt thank you to Bellebiter for her amazing beta skills. Thank you to my readers and reviewers. You thoughts and reviews always bring a smile. If you don't have me on author alert, you may have missed a short, silly piece I posted last month called _A Few Thoughts._ Maybe it can give you a smile today.


	32. Chapter 32

The Protector

Chapter 32

EPOV

Jasper has already boarded the other shuttle, strapped in and connected to Ares through the head piece and navigation ball, by the time I reach the shuttle bay. At his questioning look, I explain that I had asked Gagan to contact the valley and prepare them for our arrival with the refugees from the settlement.

"Good idea," he agrees, his attention already concentrated elsewhere.

I've barely clicked the last restraining lock of the co-pilot's seat harness before I feel the shuttle lift off the floor. It hovers in the air for a moment with a strange, gentle rocking motion, as Jasper begins to maneuver it slowly and carefully towards the outside door.

Slipping through the opening awards us with a momentary, jaw-dropping view of our rust-brown planet, silhouetted against the ebony blackness of space. Our home world looks so fragile… so _lonely_ … hanging there against the cold darkness that surrounds it. I can't help but wonder, briefly, what it must have looked like before we destroyed it.

Did those vast blue oceans – the ones in the book of photographs from the archives – shimmer in all their glory when the sunlight moved across them? Would I have been able to see the broad green swaths of forests, the bright meadows of colorful flowers from this distance? I am suddenly heartsick for all we have lost, and vow silently to myself that I will do everything I can to defend and protect the planet that will be our new home.

My attention is abruptly refocused on our mission, however, because as soon as we are safely away from the station, Jasper presses down on the ball as hard as he can – a move reminiscent of this morning's takeoff – and we accelerate with enough force to slam me back into my padded chair.

When I'm able to move my arms again, I pick up the headpiece, adjusting it to fit properly; but before I place my hand over the globe, I open my mind to Ares, hoping to contact him privately without my brother being aware of our conversation. For all my bravado in front of Jasper, Gagan, and the crew, I am fully aware that this rescue attempt is very risky. It would be foolish to think otherwise. I also know it will require more strength, more determination, and more concentration to maintain my shield than I have ever attempted before.

For this mission to be successful, I'll need Ares' help, his guidance; but most of all, I'll need access to his years of accumulated knowledge and experience. My quick, enthusiastic summary of the ease of this undertaking may have convinced my brother to join me; yet it is Ares and his cooperation that will bring my plans to fruition.

He is waiting… there, at the edge of my awareness, just as I thought he would be… and I welcome him into my mind. It doesn't take long for him to understand what I want him to do.

 _"_ _This plan is untenable, Edward. It is foolish and irresponsible to believe you will be successful if you don't fully incorporate Bella's abilities into your efforts – especially on the second trip, when conditions will probably be much worse. Leaving her in the valley will mean you have no nature of similarly gifted back-up or immediate, in situ help, should you need it."_

 _"_ _I want her safe, shielded from this storm. Once I get her out of the settlement and into the valley, I need_ _her to stay there. I cannot risk her safety again by letting her return with me in the shuttle. Do this for me, Ares. Promise me that once I get her to leave the shuttle, we will lift off as quickly as possible, before she has an opportunity to reboard the ship."_

 _"_ _Edward, this is not a wise course of action… "_

Over the next few minutes, Ares and I mentally argue about my desire to get Bella to stay in the valley. Above all else, I want her kept far away from peril, at least not finding herself in the middle of it. He is convinced I need her help. He informs me that none of his calculations predict a favorable outcome – unless I drag her back into the very depths of the danger that every instinct within me is screaming to help her escape.

Eventually, we agree that I will use Bella's energy freely on the first trip, saving my strength for the second. If I can convince her to stay in the valley, we will leave without her. If not, and she returns with us, Ares promises to monitor her condition and interrupt our connection, if the strain becomes too great for her.

During my private conversation with Ares, I've tried to stay aware of Jasper and his actions. Knowing I have no explanation for waiting to physically connect to the navigation ball, I've adjusted my safety harness several times, huffing in exasperation when I can't seem to get comfortable. My brother glances at me a few times, frowning at my awkward attempts, but says nothing. Ares has cooperated by distracting him with flight plans and course projections.

Finally, satisfied with the compromise Ares and I have reached regarding Bella, I place my hand over the round globe and instantly link in to him and Jasper. I'm quickly briefed on the plans that have already been made.

They've plotted a course towards the planet that will take us as quickly as possible to the settlement. Due to the rotational precession of our planet, we'll be able to avoid most of the debris fields, but will have to skirt the outer edges of a couple of them.

Yet I know that the most dangerous stage of our flight – by far – will be the unprecedented speed and angle at which we enter the atmosphere. The steeper and faster we hit the blanket of air around our planet, the greater the chance of an accident or damage to the ship, as the friction of our re-entry unevenly heats some less-protected areas in the outer hull of the shuttle. I'll have to maintain my shield at its hardest and most dense form for the entire amount of time it will take to fly through the upper atmosphere, before we can slow down on our approach to the storm.

Of course, entering at a slower speed and a more gradual angle would be much safer; it would also add another thirty minutes or more to our flight time.

That is a delay I am unwilling to accept.

.

.

With Ares' help, I use my shield only when needed – and only at the lowest level possible – as we successfully navigate around the debris fields; and then… then we hurtle, nose-first, towards the imposing outer edge of the wall of air surrounding our planet.

.

.

Throughout the entire time of our flight, I've kept my mind wide open to Ares. The double, unimpeded connection of both the physical and the mental means I'm able to sense my shield in a completely different way. Now, I can feel the building pressure from the thickening atmosphere around us; the tiny areas of weakness that need strengthening; the impact from small pieces of space debris. It is with this heightened awareness that I push my shield to its maximum, as we rumble, vibrate, and plow into the planet's layers of atmosphere.

Since leaving the space station, we've not been able to judge the actual speed of our craft; but as soon as we hit the wall of air, it is quite obvious just how fast we are traveling. The resistance and the resulting drag on our vehicle are immediately registered throughout our entire ship connection. My shield begins to glow like blue fire as the friction heats up its outer surface. The shuttle itself bucks and shudders, the feeling not unlike trying to push something mechanical and heavy through the rough water of one of our reservoirs.

Peripherally, I'm aware of Ares and Jasper making constant adjustments to our speed and flight pattern; but my sole area of concentration is my shield. So I leave the flying to them, as I monitor the stresses being placed on our protection.

Finally, the rough ride gently eases… as we drop closer to the surface, and our speed and trajectory angle level off somewhat. The viewing windows in front of us clear when we leave the last of the atmospheric dust clouds behind us.

We can now see the surface of the planet below us – and the massive, swirling tempest that is the storm threatening the settlement.

It was intimidating to observe it on the monitors in the space station; but it is truly terrifying to see it this close.

For a moment, we are both speechless as we stare in frightened bewilderment at the huge clouds of wind-driven dust, sand and debris. Beside me, Jasper eventually mutters a soft curse… and I can only, if silently, agree.

He was correct when he had scoffed at my comparison between the haboob and the storm below us.

This… _force_ is unlike anything either of us has ever experienced. It is a bloated monstrosity of dark, roiling malevolence, seemingly intent on obliterating everything beneath it.

For one brief second, the thought crosses my mind that what I am witnessing is the manifestation of an angry planet demanding a personal revenge for the harm we have done to it. It almost feels as though the storm has a reckoning intelligence of its own, as it seeks to destroy the last few remaining members of the species that rendered it lifeless.

I shake my head to rid it of these morbid thoughts, barely in time to realize that Ares and Jasper are positioning the shuttle to enter the storm. My shield is now at full strength – and I hear Jasper yell at me to hang on, as we suddenly slip into the upper levels of the gale.

It only takes a few more seconds for us to realize just how risky this venture truly is.

We've adjusted our velocity to match that of the storm – the theory being that we would be moving _with_ the winds, thereby reducing the chances of losing control of the shuttle. But we quickly discover that the winds inside the storm are not uniform, _at all_ ; that there are scattered patchwork pockets of slower and faster moving currents, which require constant adjustments to our speed and trajectory angles. Eddies of spinning gusts threaten to turn the shuttle sideways, and sudden down-drafts suck the craft too quickly towards the ground.

It is impossible to see anything beyond the border of my shield; torrents of rusty-brown dirt and swirling sand combine to form tumultuous, opaque clouds that completely fill the space around us. As we gradually start our descent, we begin to recognize bigger pieces of debris being blown by the wind. In rapid succession, pebbles… and then rocks of all sizes, growing in density and impact… gain momentum in battering against the shield. An occasional limb, or even a tree trunk, is soon hurled at us… as are various pieces of metal and recognizable equipment… torn, in whole, from the settlement.

Because of this, the shuttle is rocked, buffeted and slammed – not only by the incredible force of countervailing winds, but by the unpredictable and increasingly dense wreckage that it carries. Were it not for my shield, the shuttle and everything in it would be ripped to shreds.

Holding and maintaining that shield proves to be both harder and easier than I thought it would be.

Harder, because I can feel the drain on my energy to keep it at this level; but somewhat easier, because through Ares, I am aware of each fissure of frailty, each crack of instability. Which means that together, we adjust. And adjust. And adjust.

Finally, I hear Ares announce that contact with the settlement computer has been established, and the process to open the hangar bay doors has begun. He's chosen a course that will allow us to gradually slide towards the center of the storm; then, just as we make the final turn of our downward spiral, we will angle the shuttle into the large opening, counting on the wind to push us the remaining distance into the room.

It works without a hitch.

As soon as we clear the open doors, Ares quickly closes them behind us. But opening the hangar doors has created a funnel effect throughout the attached compartments: sucking dirt and debris through the collapsed control room, into the hangar bay, and out the open doors. It quickly fills with dust, and we have to wait until everything settles before Ares tells us it is safe to exit the shuttle.

We've landed in a room barely recognizable as the one we left only hours earlier. The panoramic windows of the control room that overlooked the hangar are broken and shattered. Dust and twisted metal have poured and pounded through them, invading the large space. Everywhere we look, we see piles of dirt, debris and scattered wreckage.

The large shuttle, although covered in a thick layer of dust, appears to be unharmed, however. It's parked on the far side of the room, away from the encroaching rubble, and protected on one side by a solid rock wall supporting intact metal roof trusses overhead. As soon as we exit our craft, Jasper heads straight towards it – explaining that while he gets started dumping the cargo, I can find the stairs to the emergency evacuation room.

With Ares directing me, it doesn't take long to find them. Fearing that the exit nearest the control room would be blocked by wreckage, I opt to use the one close to the outside doors. The entrance is tucked away in a small alcove, which seems to have effectively protected it from the worst of the storm. The metal door is heavy, reinforced for safety, and hard to move. I use a piece of discarded equipment from one of the rovers to prop it open before descending the stairs behind it.

At the bottom of the steep staircase, I find a short hallway, and then yet another formidable door. Opening this one proves to be difficult, also, and the metal screeches in protest as I tug on it. A gust of warm, stale air escapes and envelops me when I finally wrench the door open.

My immediate impressions is that the room before me seems fairly expansive, and could conceivably hold four or five hundred people. It has a low ceiling, however, giving it a closed-in, claustrophobic feeling. The air is humid, stuffy, and the lighting very dim. I can barely make out some vague figures who appear to be resting on mats, scattered randomly across the floor.

The noise of my entry has alerted the room to my presence; and when the lights begin to brighten at my direction, I can suddenly see a crowd of surprised, shocked and very confused faces turning to look my way.

.

.

I've never been one to seek attention.

Emmett was always the leader; the one to organize our play group and, later, our cohort. He knew the right words to say – the right things to do, the right way to act – in order to convince people to follow his suggestions. And Jasper – with his easy smile, calming influence and ready humor – he could always charm and cajole everyone around him, making them more than happy to follow his lead.

I was satisfied to stay in their shadow; to fade into the group of loyal followers. My odd abilities… coupled with the confusion and the self-doubts they inspired… had caused me to shy away from any leadership role, without a second thought of envy or regret.

Here I stand, though, in front of a roomful of strangers, who – until just a few moments ago, when I came barging through the door – had resigned themselves to the possibility that they might never leave this room again.

I need to say something.

I need to give them a reason to have hope, to ease the fear I know they are feeling; and, more than anything else, I need them suddenly… somehow… believe in me.

Yet even with the acceptance of my role as an adult, a protector and potential rescuer of my people – and despite my bluster and confidence in convincing Jasper to join me in this mission – I am still that person who was satisfied to never take the lead, to never draw attention to myself. So when I open my mouth to speak, the words stick in my throat… and refuse to be uttered.

But as my gaze scans the room, I see acceptance there. And I finally realize, with abrupt and newfound clarity, that I don't need to convince them to trust me, to believe in me; I see that they already do. I may not know them; but _they_ know _me_.

.

.

Before me are almost four hundred people who have long left their homes and moved into this settlement, preparing themselves for the day when we would board a strange metal ship – waiting in the sky above us – and entrust themselves into my safekeeping. Even though we have never met, we are no longer strangers.

I clear my throat… and this time, my words are sure and strong as I explain to them that Jasper and I are here to take them to safety.

Briefly describing our trip through the storm, I assure them of the strength and reliability of my shield. As I speak… as I outline our plans, our experience running the shifting winds, and Ares' constant monitoring and predictive calculations… I see nods of agreement, smiles of encouragement. I see backs that straighten with determination, and shoulders ready to work.

I see hope.

By the time I'm finished speaking, the entire group is on their feet – moving forward, and then past me, to exit the room. Their faces are full of purpose, determination and relief as they shake my hand, pat my back, or give me grateful hugs on their way.

But in truth, I only have eyes for the one special, dear-to-me person I see grinning, as she hurriedly approaches me.

Bella's beaming face is openly full of love, pride, and happiness at seeing me. I can also sense a bit of smug satisfaction; she knows I understood her last instructions, and have, after all, done nothing but followed her command.

She must also know that I heard her words of love.

As she steps into my open, waiting arms, I wrap myself around her… and _will_ her to feel the emotion I pour into our embrace. My sigh of relief at finally being able to hug her against me is matched only by her own exhalation as we cling to each other.

I realize I need to tell her, too. I need to express how much she means to me, has always meant to me.

I've known Bella all my life. She was every part of my childhood; we played together, casually and constantly, as children, neighbors, friends. And even though we were eventually separated as we entered our training years, I still welcomed searching out her familiar face during festivals and celebrations.

But it was at her first social – when she had reached her maturity – that our friendship had deepened into so much more; when I knew I _wanted_ so much more.

It's important for her to know. With everything we've been through the last few months… with all the misunderstandings of the last few days… I still love her – with far more of myself than I ever could have known before. I will always love her; and I need to tell her, need to reassure her, _right now_ – before we confront the danger that is waiting for us, and before the uncertainty of our mission can possibly take this opportunity away.

I need, and Bella needs, to hear me speak the words. To hear me say, "I love you." Out loud.

And so, I take a small step away from her, cupping my hands around her sweet face; but before I can say them, I'm interrupted by a nearby, very loud throat-clearing.

When I glance up, it is to see another female face of someone I love very much. But this face is not so welcoming; this face is not so full of pride or relief. In fact, this face is very angry.

"Mother?" I manage to croak out.

"Edward." She acknowledges my greeting with a nod of her head, before resuming her unhappy glare. "Jasper?"

"He's upstairs, preparing the large shuttle."

My answer only serves to make her angrier; and the confident, slightly cocky man who had bragged to his brother about the ease of this mission… slowly, inevitably gives way to the guilty child, caught by his mother being naughty.

"Mother, I… "

She doesn't let me finish my excuse – interrupting to remind me that not only have I disobeyed orders, but I've somehow managed to involve my brother in my reckless behavior as well. Her voice has risen with her frustration, as she continues to scold me; but I understand it is really her worry that is causing her distress.

I knew – even when I went against her orders, and planned this mission – that she would be angry, that she would react this way. I knew; but still, I chose to do what I thought was best – if only and exactly because I realized I had no real choice at all.

Her anger and authority are intimidating, however, and I find myself beginning to stutter out an explanation.

"No."

This time, it is Father who interrupts me.

"No, son," he repeats. "You will not apologize for being here; for following your instinct to save and protect."

He turns to Mother. "Let it be, Esme," he says, placing his hand on her arm to calm her. "It is past the time of orders, of obeying commands. We need to concentrate on surviving."

Mother stares at him for a long moment… finally releasing a sigh, as her posture slowly relaxes. He smiles tenderly at her, before reaching out to smooth the worry lines from her forehead. "It's going to be okay," I hear him whisper to her. "Everything is going to be okay."

The look they share is _full_.

There is trust; there is affection, and devotion. There is stubborn, relentless hope and determination. There is an eagerness to comfort… and the loving, reluctant capitulation to be comforted.

I think of the many times I've seen my father offer my mother small signs of support: a kiss to her cheek at Jasper's party; his hand gripping the small of her back, when Emmett and I left; the smiles and hand-squeezes at our family dinner table. Viewed now – through the new knowledge I have of my mother's responsibilities and obligations – these indications of his devotion and support speak of a bond much deeper than only love or affection.

This is a soul-binding partnership between two people who have weathered the good and the bad together; who have shared joy and sadness, disappointment and danger, leadership and family and responsibility… and have emerged, together, stronger because of it.

Two people who have, through a lifetime of living, worn all the rough edges away until they fit together, as one whole.

This is what I long to have with Bella someday.

Mother finally nods in agreement, before they both turn to look at me.

"Now," Father begins, "tell me more about the plans you and Jasper made for our evacuation."

Over the next few minutes, I explain our thoughts and ideas in more detail. As we talk, I keep my arm around Bella's shoulder, reluctant to let her go, to stop touching her. I notice Mary Alice and my sister silently edging closer, listening to our conversation. I give them a brief smile before continuing my explanation.

Father asks questions from time to time, offering a few suggestions now and then, before he and Mother exit the room.

Bella and I are walking, hand in hand, content – and even able for a brief, rare moment to simply just follow the group – when Alice grabs my other hand. I glance behind us, looking for Mary Alice, only to be told she has run ahead of the group to see Jasper.

"Alice," I whisper to my little sister. "Are you alright?"

She nods her head; but it is plain to see that she is still worried. "It was terrible, Edward," she confesses. "I was… I was really scared."

I pull my hand from hers and wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her into my side. "It's going to be okay, now. I promise you, Alice, everything is going to be fine."

"We're going back to the valley? We're going home?"

"Yes. We just need to remove some weight from the shuttle, then we'll get on board, fly out of here, and head straight home to the valley."

"But the storm… ? How… ?"

"Alice, there isn't a storm on this planet that is as strong as my shield." My bragging earns me a tilt of the head from Bella, and a familiar sibling eye roll from my sister. "Hey, we just flew through that storm, and my shield kept us safe the whole way – and it will keep us safe when we leave, too. There's nothing to worry about, little sister. Everything is going to be fine."

This time, my attempts to reassure her earn me a rueful smile, and a timid nod in agreement.

"Come on, you two," I laugh, urging them up the stairs. "We have work to do."

The room is still very dusty, and I hear coughing and sneezing as we enter the hangar. Many people manage to cover their nose and mouth with their shirts, or other articles of clothing. I briefly think about my cloak, with its convenient dust guard, and wish I had it with me now… only to realize that most of my belongings, including my weapons, were left in my room in the yellow corridor, which has since been destroyed by the storm. I feel a momentary stab of regret at their loss; but I don't have time to dwell on it now.

Jasper has the shuttle side doors and back ramp open, and has gathered a supply of tools that will be necessary to detach the extra seating and unneeded storage bins. He quickly divides everyone into work groups; and before long, there are lines of people passing discarded parts and supplies to each other, as the shuttle is gradually stripped of any unnecessary weight.

Working together seems to improve the mood of the group; I hear a few conversations, and even a laugh or two, as the task progresses.

It is impossible to forget the storm for more than a brief instant, though, as the wind howls and shrieks just outside the doors and overhead.

From time to time, one or more of the metal roof supports bends with a loud groan; but they appear to be holding steady for the moment. Dirt and wreckage from the collapsed control room continues to accumulate at one end of the hangar, most of it only held back by a small surviving portion of the dividing wall.

Suddenly, with a loud crash and a jarring shudder, the rest of the partition collapses – sending an avalanche of debris cascading into the space.

For a moment, every activity stops as we all stare in horror at the wall of rubble slowly advancing towards us. Work immediately resumes at a feverish pace, spurred on by the knowledge that our time is most certainly – and very rapidly – running out.

Soon, with an abrupt sense of finality, the shuttle's back ramp is loudly closed and sealed.

And then... it is time to leave.

There are quick goodbyes, hugs of farewell, and a few urgent kisses, before Jasper and Mother emerge from a side door, urging all the women and teens to hurry on board, quickly arranging them in packed rows seated on the floor. The men, who will wait for the second trip, swiftly form a loose line in order to file directly through the narrow doors leading to the evacuation room.

Father grabs my arm, pulling me to one side, before I can board the shuttle.

"When you open the outside doors, it is going to create a maelstrom in here," he tells me. "Make sure you let me get everyone back in the safe room, before you open them. And Edward," he adds, "while you are gone, we'll try to build a retaining barrier around the stairway entrance. On the return trip, park the shuttle as close as you can to the doorway."

I glance over at that encroaching wall of rubble; it is still moving, albeit slowly, and I nod at him in agreement with his unspoken fear. "Safe journey, son," he tells me, before stepping away and encouraging the stragglers to hurry to the evacuation room.

Just as I'm approaching the last open door on the shuttle, I meet Mother – calmly making her way back down the exit stairs, and turning to follow Father.

"Where are you going? Mother, you can't stay here. Please get back on the shuttle!" I grab her arm in desperation, pleading with her to come with me.

"No," she tells me, determination and resolve in her words and her stance. "I am the leader of this community, and the head of the governing council. My place is here, with my husband and with the remaining people. I will not leave my post until everyone is safe."

"But… "

"No, Edward," she interrupts me again. "You disobeyed my orders once, and I can concede why you felt like you had to do that."

Mother's voice softens a bit with the understanding look she gives me before resuming her command.

"But you will obey me now. Get on the shuttle; get those people out of here. And then… " she pauses. "Then you can come back and rescue the rest of us."

Mother gives me another smile to take the sting from her words before beginning to walk away again.

"Oh, and Edward?" she calls over her shoulder. "Hurry!"

Scrambling on board the shuttle, I quickly strap in, adjust the headset, then link to Ares mentally and through the ball. Jasper is settled into the pilot's chair on my left, and Bella is sitting in another chair to my right. She's placed her hand on my right wrist, just slightly above where the sensor wires have attached themselves to my hand.

When she notices me looking at her hand, she squeezes my arm – and I feel a light surge of energy flow from her into me. "Not too much, okay?" I ask, when she smiles up at me. "I don't want you to overdo it."

This earns me another eye roll, and an exasperated huff at my over-protectiveness; but she nods her head in agreement.

"Slow and steady," she answers me. "And more when you need it."

With that settled between us, I turn to look at the crowd of women and young teens seated on the floor behind us.

Every available inch of space has been used to fit someone into the shuttle. Mary Alice is located just off to Jasper's left, with Alice and her brother, Jared, sitting beside her. She is holding their hands, tightly, a look of determined courage on her face.

As I study the rest of the group, I notice this same determination; this same look of hesitant bravery. They are scared, yes – but for themselves and for each other, they are all trying to hide their fear.

Summoning a confident smile, I speak to them, using the words that Father used to reassure Mother. "It's going to be okay, I promise you. Everything is going to be okay. Jasper is going to help you relax, then I'll open my shield and it will be just like going to sleep. When you wake up, we'll be safely away from the storm."

I'm rewarded with a few wary smiles, and when I turn back to the front, Jasper is already frowning in concentration, sending out a soothing wave of calmness and serenity. Eyes begin to droop… and heads to incline… as he gently strengthens the urge to sleep; and soon, we are surrounded by a slumbering, relaxed fellowship of passengers, ready to be evacuated from the settlement. I pop open my shield, suspending time for everyone inside the shuttle – except for my brother, Bella, and me.

As we complete the rest of our take-off preparations, we watch the last of the men, with Mother and Father at the rear, disappear through the stairway door. Just before they vanish from view, our parents wave farewell to us… then turn back to enter the stairwell, closing the door behind them.

Ares begins to open the outside doors, and I pour more power into the shield that protects us.

The wind blasts through the open hangar, filling it with swirling dirt, dust, and ear-splitting shrieks. Beside me, Bella tightens her grip on my arm, a small frightened moan escaping her lips.

Slowly and carefully, Jasper begins to move us into position for takeoff… fighting the force of the wind as it jolts and shakes the shuttle, threatening to flip us on our side.

"Get ready!" I hear him shout – and then we are off, speeding towards the hangar's outside doors – and right into the mouth of the malevolent tempest waiting for us there.

.

.

AN: Bellebiter polished, I fiddled some more, so all remaining mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading.


	33. Chapter 33

AN: WARNING: There is a character death at the end of this chapter. It is NOT Edward, or Bella, or Jasper. I understand this will upset some people, so if you want to read the chapter; but not that particular scene, then you should skip the last few paragraphs. If you want to PM me first to ask about it, I will be happy to answer.

Thank you to Bellebiter for her hard work on this chapter. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

The Protector

Chapter 33

EPOV

Leaving the settlement is a trickier, more difficult maneuver than entering.

The exit doors of the hangar bay face south. When Ares opens them, we can see an opaque wall of dirt and rubble blowing almost horizontally – the torrent roaring from the west, on our right, shooting all the way across the vast landscape to the east, on our left. If we try to fly straight into the storm, the winds will strike broadside of the shuttle and begin rolling us over and over, making it almost impossible to regain control of the craft. We'll have to turn with the wind before that happens.

Ares and Jasper have positioned us so we leave the hangar angled towards the left. Even before we've cleared the doors, they execute a sharp bank to the east – tilting the shuttle on its left edge, and letting the winds catch the underside. The maneuver harnesses their force, immediately pushing and lifting us up, right into the middle of the storm.

We climb into the gale, trying to match our speed to the increasing winds… gradually working our way upward and outward, toward the slightly clearer, thinning edge of the massive storm track. My shield is tested to its limits, battered and bludgeoned by the rubble, as we ride out the turbulence.

Once again, I leave the flying to Jasper and Ares, concentrating instead on maintaining our protection. I let Bella feed me a steady stream of power; carefully drawing what I need, but never overpowering her supply of energy.

We work well together.

As the rotation of the wind begins to turn us towards the north, Ares explains a plan designed to let us forego the gradual, safer spiraling to escape the storm. It's a calculated risk, and yet another tricky maneuver; but it will make our departure that much quicker, saving us precious time.

He turns on a small navigation screen between Jasper and me, showing our progress in relationship to the storm. If we can increase our speed to its maximum before it turns back towards the west, we can harness the acceleration of the shuttle, combined with the force of the wind, to fling us away from the storm – in a single, violent slingshot effect. But we will have to push the already overloaded shuttle to its peak capacity speed; and when we exceed the velocity of the winds around us, the friction will cause my shield to heat, just as it did on re-entry to the atmosphere.

The benefits are too great to not consider; and after a three-way consultation between us, we decide to take the chance.

Jasper straightens in his chair, preparing to use all his strength to manipulate the navigation ball. The muscles in his arm flex and contract as he depresses and squeezes the globe, forcing the shuttle engines to reach their pinnacle output, as I quickly strengthen my shield to its strongest density. The whine of overburdened motors assaults our ears, and the shuttle begins to buck and bounce as we move forward – this time, _into_ the wind and its debris instead of _with_ it.

We'll need a minimum of ten minutes' top acceleration to reach the momentum required to escape the storm. If we don't reach our goal, we risk being trapped in its vice-like grip and slammed sideways, as the winds rotate to the west. The power of our forward motion must be strong enough to resist the gravity-like pull of the storm as it circles towards the west again.

The navigation screen between us traces our progress, as we rush towards the northern edge of the storm. Ares has plotted our course and speed, and it is depicted as a contiguous line of green dashes running across the screen. Beside it is a solid red line; _this_ is what we must match, if we want to be successful.

For the first five minutes, we keep pace with the parallel red line; but as the sixth and seventh minutes tick by, it becomes increasingly evident that our progress is falling behind plan. With the engines already struggling and warning lights blinking on the control boards in front of us, we are rapidly running out of time to make the decision whether to proceed with our risky maneuver, or fall back to the original slower, but safer plan.

Neither Jasper nor I want to admit defeat; and for a fraction of a moment, we are both paralyzed by indecision… until Ares offers a third option. He suggests that I extend my shield out in front of the shuttle – creating a tunnel effect that would hold back the winds, thereby reducing the drag on the ship as we move _through_ the shield-protected space rather than along _with_ it.

As soon as I understand his plan, I am implementing it. Grunting with the effort of opening a tunnel through the raging winds, I push with all my strength and determination to force the storm away from the area immediately in front of us. As the space begins to clear, our velocity increases – and, much sooner than we anticipated, we are suddenly hurtling smoothly towards the outer edge of the storm.

The effort to maintain the opening is overwhelming. A soft moan escapes me, as I concentrate on holding the shield. _"Two minutes more; just two minutes more… "_ becomes the mantra that I chant, over and over to myself, as I watch the green line of our progress begin to catch up to – and then overtake – the red line of our goal.

 _Just two minutes more._

Bella has continued to supply me with energy; a steady stream that supports me, yet never depletes her. But when I start to tremble with the effort of maintaining the tunnel… and my vision begins to blur with fatigue… I can somehow hear her shouting at me – over the noise of the straining engines, and the howling of the storm – to take more.

Suddenly, she squeezes my arm with both her hands – and a jolt of invigorating power races through me.

I snap back to full awareness, holding the tunnel wide open in front of us… as the last few, painfully slow seconds crawl by.

We exit the storm with a tremendous rush of speed, soaring into the clear sky beyond. Instantly, Jasper throttles back: sparing the engines from further strain, and deliberately slowing our progress as he prepares to more carefully approach our valley.

My shield closes immediately. Behind me, I can hear our passengers start to stir as its effects begin to dissipate; but I don't have a moment to spare for them, because it's then that I notice Bella is slumped over in her chair beside me – her eyes closed, her skin ashen.

"Ares," I plead. "Help me!"

Within seconds, the wires connecting me to the ship retract – and I unfasten her safety harness, pulling her to me. Her head lulls back against my shoulder, as I settle her onto my lap.

I hear myself screaming her name, over and over.

Ares is trying to speak to me; and when I eventually calm enough to listen to him, he instructs me to place one of her hands over the navigation ball so he can assess her condition. The tiny wires quickly wrap themselves around her hand… while I wait for the eternity it takes until he finally tells me that she will be okay.

He further assures me that with rest and plenty of food and drink, she will recover completely. He theorizes that her sudden and forceful thrust of energy into me immediately overwhelmed her system, causing her blood pressure and glucose levels to drop too quickly. I nod in understanding; these are conditions I understand. The medical terms he continues to use are unfamiliar to me, however; but it doesn't matter. All I really need to know and care about is that she is going to be alright.

Clutching Bella's limp form in my arms, I watch and listen while Jasper handles the final approach to our valley. So much has happened, since we first circled it this morning on our way to the space station, that I can scarcely believe it is still the same day.

Unlike this morning – when Jasper stayed out of sight, well above and beyond the encircling mountains – he flies directly over the entrance wall, then swoops down into the valley. We can see people below us, gathered and waiting in the amphitheater and the open area around it. He carefully pilots the shuttle over the empty space, and then eases into a gentle landing.

For a moment, it is completely quiet inside the ship; no one says anything, until my brother turns to look at me.

"So," he begins, before cocking one eyebrow at me. "Did your very detailed and well-thought-out plan include what we do next?"

"I, uhh… "

He smirks at my intelligent reply, before telling me to stay put; then, he turns to the passengers, asking them to please stay seated for just a few more minutes until he returns. Opening the pilot's exit door beside him, my brother lowers the stairs and quickly descends to speak to the small group waiting for him there.

By shifting around in my chair, I can just barely see the people he greets. The Head Matron is there, along with several other women, including Kate. I can see Dr. Banner listening intently as Jasper speaks. His curt sentences are muffled, but I do register the words 'return trip' and 'urgent'; and, finally, something about Bella and medical care. They speak for another couple of minutes before Jasper returns up the stairs and climbs back on board.

Addressing the waiting women and teens, he explains that when he lowers the large cargo ramp at the back of the shuttle, they need to exit as quickly as possible so that we can return by shuttle to the settlement. The Matrons from our valley will be waiting to take them to the dining hall for a meal, and to rooms that have been prepared for them. The men from our valley, as well as all the cadets and Protectors, have been ordered to stay inside the amphitheater until the situation can be explained to them. Then, just before he walks towards the rear of the vehicle to begin helping everyone exit the shuttle, he turns to me – quietly letting me know that Dr. Banner is already waiting to take Bella to the infirmary.

Cradling her carefully in my arms, I descend the stairs to find not only Dr. Banner, but also Hunter, waiting patiently.

For a moment, I can only stare at my fellow Ranger, mentor and friend. So many things have happened – and I have changed so much – since we last parted ways on the trail outside the valley walls.

"Hunter, I… "

"I know," he answers, nodding at my unspoken thoughts, before holding out his arms for Bella. "Let me have her, Edward. We'll take good care of her until you get back. I understand things are bad at the settlement, and you need to hurry. We'll talk when you return."

"She needs food and rest," I tell Dr. Banner. "If she wakes up before I get back, please tell her… "

Before I can finish, I'm interrupted by loud shouting, then sounds of a disturbance somewhere between where we are standing beside the shuttle and the amphitheater. When we look towards the noise, I can see my brother, Emmett, arguing angrily with two of the Matrons who are blocking his way.

My feet are moving before I've even given it a conscious thought – and as soon as he sees me heading towards him, he sidesteps the women and begins running to me.

"Edward! Edward!" I can hear him calling my name, before he comes to a halt in front of me. My brother stares intently at me, while I watch a myriad of emotions wash across his face. Apprehension, curiosity, a little anger, and a lot of confusion… all finally replaced by relief, as he carefully scrutinizes my face.

"You're alive," he whispers. "You're alive, and you came back… in that." His nods at the ship behind me.

"Uhh… Yeah, it's called a shuttle."

"And it flies?"

I can't help the dry chuckle that escapes me when I recall the 'flying' I've done in three different shuttles, all in the span of one short day. "Oh, yes," I tell my brother. "It flies."

Emmett glances back at the shuttle, and when I turn to follow his gaze, I see Hunter approaching us, still carrying Bella in his arms.

"I see you found her, huh?" Emmett's voice has gone cold, harsh.

"It's not what you think… "

Before I can continue or explain, Emmett is interrupting me. Shoulders tense, hands fisted, anger marring his face, he shouts his frustration at me.

"Not what I think? What am I supposed to think? You left, Edward, on a mission through the Wastelands to find Bella and rescue our little sister – the one _she_ kidnapped – and you didn't come back! And no one… not one single person, including that asshole over there," he continues, nodding at Hunter, "would tell me what was going on, or if you were even still alive."

"Did you know Mother and Father are gone? That's right. I waited a week, more than enough time for you to find Alice and return, and then I went to our house, hoping they could tell me something – and they're not there! It's just empty… which means they're missing, too. Everyone was gone, Edward; I was the only one of our family left in the valley. And now, here _you_ are, returning in some type of flying machine with _her_ , while all the rest of our family is missing. So: you tell me, dear brother… just what am I supposed to think?"

Gaping in astonishment at my brother's outburst, I'm left speechless in the face of his anger and frustration. As we stare at each other, I am unable to move, even as I warily watch his face crumple in remorse… and then, suddenly, Emmett is pulling me into a brotherly embrace.

"Ahh, twin," he whispers brokenly. "I'm sorry. It's just that I've been so worried. I'm glad you're here; really, I am."

When he steps away from me, I open my mouth to explain – only to be interrupted again; this time, by voices coming from the rear of the shuttle. Turning towards the noise, I realize the group from Korinth has exited the ship, and are being led into the city. As we watch, a small figure breaks from the crowd and begins running towards us.

It takes my brother a few short moments to realize it's Alice heading our way. "Alice?" I hear him question, before he, too, breaks into a run. Following closely behind him, I'm treated to her happy giggle when he picks her up and spins her around.

"Emmett, Emmett!" she laughs, when he finally sets her down.

"Alice, I'm so happy… " My brother's voice trails off as he stares fixedly at the couple approaching us. "Oh, dear Ares," I hear him gasp. "Is that… Jasper?"

Jasper is holding Mary Alice's hand tightly as he closes the distance between us. When they come to a stop, he smiles hesitantly at Emmett, as though unsure about our brother's reaction after being missing for over nine months.

Emmett, for once, is speechless… as he stares at the brother we had assumed was lost to us forever. And then, in true Emmett style, he breaks the silence by demanding to know "just what the _fuck_ is going on."

Alice hides another giggle behind her hand at Emmett's cursing, and Mary Alice blushes a bright red. Jasper begins to chuckle… and I can't hold the snort of amusement that escapes my lips. Soon, we're all laughing… as my two brothers greet each other, with awkward pats on the back and handshakes before openly grasping each other in a tight hug.

Then, almost as quickly as it sprang up, our humor fades into thoughtful pauses and serious looks shared between us; a brief respite, only, to the urgency of the task awaiting Jasper and me, and the stressed tension radiating from Emmett.

Uneasy silence surrounds us when we've calmed down. I shift uncomfortably on my feet, while Alice glances nervously between us. Finally, Jasper steps forward introducing Mary Alice to Emmett; and then I explain, quickly, about the storm and our need to return to the settlement as soon as possible to rescue Mother and Father – along with the rest of the people from Korinth.

Of course, Emmett immediately demands to go with us, arguing that they are his parents, too.

We are adamant in our refusal to let him accompany us, which only makes him more determined to go.

Yet he finally, somewhat surprisingly, relents – encouraged, I suspect, by a little 'persuasion' from our brother's gift – when Jasper asks him to take care of Mary Alice, our sister and Bella while we are gone. Part of me shudders at the thought of Emmett's ire if he ever figures out what Jasper has done.

Our time, however, is running out; so, with one last quick hug to Mary Alice and our siblings, Jasper and I make our way back to the shuttle. I look around for Hunter and Bella, but cannot find them; hopefully, he has taken her to the city infirmary to be cared for. We wave goodbye to our family, board the shuttle, strap in, and within a few minutes we've lifted off. Jasper punches the navigation ball, and then we're speeding back to the settlement, anxious to reunite with the people we've left there.

.

.

Ares' course has us heading south and west of our valley. He swings us in a wide loop, skirting the edge of the storm and entering just at the point where the winds turn from a southern heading to an easterly flow.

Now that we know more about the storm and what to expect, he's able to bring us in low to the ground, closer to the hangar bay doors. As soon as he can establish contact with the settlement computer, he begins the process of opening them.

The sensors in the settlement relay a frightening series of events since our departure.

The dome over the dining room has finally collapsed. That beautiful, welcoming space full of trees, flowers and the amazing fountain, simply… _is_ no more, completely buried under dirt, wreckage, and debris from the storm. The sediment has also begun spreading its tentacles to fill each of the extending corridors, as it overflows the dining room and pushes into the surrounding passageways.

The archives room has been spared, at least for the moment. I can only hope the double doors protecting the inner storage space will ensure the survival of the multitude of books and scrolls containing our history and knowledge residing there. Although everything it holds has been lost to us – and I know I will never enter that chamber again – it still gives me a sense of hope to think it might continue, sealed away forever in its underground tomb.

The most disturbing development is the condition of the giant doors to the hangar. The reinforcements around the opening have begun to bend and twist, making the doors buckle and pull away from their sliding tracks – tracks which are now filling with dirt and debris, since being exposed to the is still plenty of energy in the storage units to power the machinery to move the doors; but it is taking much longer than normal to open a space big enough for the shuttle to slip through.

We're not sure what we will find when we finally get inside.

The doors have just barely opened halfway before they grind to a halt. Since the shuttle is much wider than it is tall, Ares and Jasper have to tip the craft almost on its side to squeeze though the narrow opening. If not for my hard shield, the left side of the shuttle would have been ripped off as we plow through the rubble filling the entrance.

The hangar is almost completely filled with storm detritus. A layer of dirt and sand several feet thick covers the floor near the outside doors. From there, the wall of rubble gradually increases in height until it fills every nook and cranny, reaching almost to the ceiling on the opposite side of the room, near the destroyed control center.

For the moment, it seems to have slowed its advanced, the impacted control room acting as a plug to stop more dirt from entering the area. But opening the outside doors has once again created a funnel effect; and even as Jasper carefully maneuvers the shuttle around in the confined space, trying to land as close to the evacuation room as possible, we can see the pile begin to shudder as the suction pulls at the front layers.

The air is filled with blowing dust – which only worsens when Ares informs us that he is hesitant to close the hangar bay doors, fearing that we will be unable to open them when it is time to leave. To protect ourselves, Jasper and I both tear a strip of fabric from the bottom of our shirts to tie over our noses and mouths as we exit the shuttle, intent on finding the entrance door to the safety room.

We are immediately assaulted by the force of the winds; our skin stung by the blowing sand. I pop my shield open, protecting the two of us from its effects, as we trudge through the accumulated debris.

For a brief moment, I am reminded of my trek through the canyon; with the haboob that had made me run for my life, and my shield the only protection I had against its death-dealing winds. I had been by myself that time, facing an unknown future. This time, I have my brother by my side; and I can't help but smile at the comfort that knowledge brings me.

Jasper must sense my relief, because he cocks a questioning eyebrow at me.

"You good?" he asks.

"Fine," I answer.

"And the shield?"

"Strong and steady."

"Energy levels?"

"I'm good, Jasper, really," I reply, shaking my head at my brother and his questions.

On our quick return trip from the valley to the settlement, Jasper had quizzed me relentlessly about my energy levels and my ability to sustain my shield. I had assured him, repeatedly, that I was feeling strong and capable. Between Bella's jolt of energy and the emergency provisions in the shuttle that we had consumed on our flight, I was back to my normal self – and more than confident I would be able to sustain my shield through whatever situation we were forced to deal with.

.

.

It doesn't take us long to find the door to the evacuation room tucked inside its protective alcove. Just as Father had said they would, the men have used whatever they could find in the hangar to build a retaining wall to guard the entrance. They've stacked rovers, pieces of discarded equipment and metal wreckage to form a barrier, even using the shuttle we left behind to reinforce it. It's done a good job of preventing the rubble from blocking the entrance; but we still have to climb over mounds of drifting sand to reach the opening.

Once again, we wrestle with the unwieldy door, propping it open with another piece of abandoned rover equipment. Rushing down the stairs and through the adjoining hallway, we make quick work of opening the remaining door and entering the room where our parents, and the rest of the citizens from Korinth, are waiting for us.

The room is much the same as when I found it earlier. The air is still humid and stuffy; the lighting, dim. Everyone, including Mother and Father, are resting on the mats scattered on the floor. But this time, when the lights begin to brighten and the noise of our arrival has alerted the room, there is no hesitation, no questioning. Everyone is on their feet and hurrying toward the exit, even before Jasper and I can step out of the way.

Ordered chaos would be the best way to describe our departure from the room. There is no pushing, no shoving, and few words exchanged; but everyone is seized by a sense of urgency, as they dash up the stairs towards the nearby shuttle.

Mother, Father, Jasper and I are the last people to leave the room. We emerge into the hangar bay to find a steadily moving line of men, quickly entering through the side doors of the shuttle and settling themselves in the empty cargo space at the rear.

About half are onboard – the rest waiting their turn, or scrambling over the barrier – when we suddenly hear the deep-groaning vibrations and screeching reverberations of failing metal. Our eyes are instantly drawn upwards as we watch, in panic-stricken horror, the strong, solid roof supports above us begin to buckle and fail. Everything beneath them, including the shuttle and all of us, will be crushed under their weight when they fall.

Without a second's hesitation, I open my shield – extending it to cover the shuttle, and all of us still waiting to board – just as the first shattered pieces begin to descend from the ceiling. The smaller chunks bounce and slide off the shield when they hit; the larger pieces gradually slip along the barrier's rounded edge when I push against them.

For the moment, we are safe from the falling metal; but opening my shield has presented us with another problem. Everyone beneath it – except for Jasper and me, and, surprisingly, our parents – are paused in place, as time stops for all of them.

We are left with a half-loaded shuttle and a crowd of men still waiting to board, but unable to move.

As my brother and I stand staring at each other, possible solutions running through our heads, a tremendous crash and a ground-shaking shudder roar through the room. We turn as one towards the sound, only to find that one of the hangar bay doors has finally pulled loose from its holding tracks, and has fallen. Not inward, toward the room, or outward, into the storm; but sideways… twisting in its descent, until it now leans against the other, upright door – effectively blocking our exit, and trapping us in the rapidly deteriorating hangar bay.

We have, essentially, run out of time.

There is only one course of action left to me. I have to find a way to manipulate my shield, so that it will protect us from the falling debris overhead, while still managing to release the men under it – so they can resume boarding the shuttle, and we can all leave before the whole room collapses around us.

Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the shield: picturing it in my mind as a thin layer above us; an alternate ceiling shoring up the compromised roof over us, but leaving everyone below it free to move about. I've never used my shield in this way before. It takes some effort, and I grunt with the strain – even raising my arms above my head, to support it – as I concentrate on holding it in place; spreading it out to cover the whole area, and tilting it slightly to let the wreckage slide off to the side.

It works.

I can hear renewed movement around me; pounding footsteps and shouting, as Mother and Father hurry everyone on board.

For a brief moment, Mother steps closer, and pauses beside me. "Oh, Edward," I hear her awed whisper. "I didn't realize it was so beautiful."

When I open my eyes to glance at her, she is staring upwards at my shield. I follow her sightline; and, for the first time ever, observe my shield from outside its protective barrier. It arcs over us, glittering in the muted light of the room… a crystalline sheet of safety, that diverts the danger from above.

I cannot stop the pleased grin that spreads across my face as I stare at it. Mother laughs softly beside me; and when I turn towards her, she graces me with a proud, wistful smile… an oddly peaceful pause… before Jasper soon appears, telling us it is time to get on the shuttle. Once inside, I let it settle in a dome around the now loaded ship.

We strap in quickly, linking to Ares through the navigation balls and firing up the shuttle engines. Mother is sitting in the chair beside me; Father, on the floor next to her. Our passengers are once again suspended in time, while my shield protects us from the debris falling down upon us.

The impacted plug of sediment in the control center that was holding back the avalanche of storm detritus has finally given way; strengthening the funneling effect throughout the room and the suction beginning to move the towering wall of rubble behind us. It collapses with a rumble, surging towards us in a wave of grinding grit and debris that Jasper barely avoids by lifting the shuttle into the air as it rolls under us – filling the space beneath us, and crushing the equipment that was once the protective barrier around the safety room's entrance.

We hover in the air, my shield protecting us, as the wind tries to toss us about the room – Jasper fighting to keep us from crashing into the walls around us, or onto the floor below us. He's positioned us to face the exit doors as we wait… with rapidly diminishing hope… for Ares to find a way to open the last upright door.

Time seems to slow, the seconds creeping to a standstill, as he diverts all the remaining power in the settlement to the machinery that controls their movement; and we watch… for any hint of progress on their part. If the one remaining upright door can be moved just a few feet, it will allow the fallen door to finish its descent to the ground, leaving us a space just big enough to escape through.

We watch and wait, but nothing happens.

Around us, the room continues to disintegrate.

Chunks of metal and rock from the ceiling and roof supports fall against my shield, knocking the shuttle from side-to-side as we rock to and fro in the ever-narrowing space. We exist in a tentative bubble of safety, threatened on all sides by the growing debris that fills the space around us, gradually trapping us within its grasp. And when my strength fails, and I can no longer sustain my shield, we'll be slowly crushed… buried beneath tons of rock, and soil, and sand… entombed forever in our unmarked resting place.

All these thoughts fill my mind as I sit with my brother and my parents, silently staring at the last obstacle preventing our escape. I'm glad they are with me; glad that we will be together if this is our end. My thoughts turn to Bella, and I am happy that she is not here; happy that she is safe, back in our valley.

I wish I had been able to tell her I love her. Even though she knows the extent of my feelings, hearing me say the words out loud would have meant so much to her… just as hearing her say them to me had moved me.

Her words had told me that she'd forgiven me – freely, without my asking – for the angry thoughts and accusations I'd hurled at her, only the previous day.

Her words had made me believe in myself and my abilities, had led to this exact moment. They had sealed, forever, the bond we share; and now they are giving me the strength to face the likelihood that I will never see her again.

Bella loves me. She loves my good, and my bad; my strengths, and my weaknesses; my past, my present, and my future. Bella loves me, all of me, and that is enough.

I close my eyes, picturing her sweet face on the monitor screen as she spoke the words that had inspired – even guiding and demanding – this rescue mission.

"I love you, Edward," she said, as the control room had collapsed around her. "I love you." And then she had continued: "Use your shield."

Her words echo in my mind… _use your shield_ … and, suddenly, I am chastising myself for my indecision, for letting the stress of the moment cloud my judgement and resolve.

She believed in me. I believe in me.

Keeping my shield securely in place around the shuttle, I don't hesitate to extend the front of it. Not in the open, tunneling effect that we had used earlier to escape the storm; but in a slender lance of power that I use to forcefully push against the stubborn exit door. I feel Ares' immediate approval.

" _Yes, Edward,"_ he whispers in my head. _"Push, with everything that you have. Push!"_

With his guidance, I concentrate all my energy and my power on the area of the door where its companion has fallen against it; this should be its weakest, most vulnerable spot. Ares helps by alternating the opening and closing mechanisms. First, he uses the motors to pull the door open; then he quickly reverses them, to try and push it closed. If we can get the door to start rocking in its sliding tracks, shoving against it with my shield might send it crashing outward – allowing the other door to finish falling to the ground.

At first, nothing happens.

Then, I think I see the door wobble slightly.

Ares continues alternating the opening and closing, the pushing and pulling on the wheeled tracks that slide the doors in place, and I maintain my pressure on the door. All my being is focused on forcing the power of my shield against that last obstacle to our escape.

And then… there is a noticeable movement in the upright door.

Beside me, I hear Jasper gasp in surprise when he sees the door shift slightly… and he suddenly understands what Ares and I are doing. He maneuvers the shuttle closer towards the exit – keeping us a safe distance from the doors, but shortening the distance for my shield extension. With renewed insistence, he is now urging me, all the while, to continue to push.

I push… I shove… I strain… forcing all my power and my energy into that point of pressure against the door. The door sways; but each time I think it will give way, it settles back in place, resisting all my efforts to make it capitulate.

Time continues to lag, the minutes and seconds passing in agonizing slowness, as I concentrate… concentrate on the door that is trapping us in this crumbling space. I can feel my mind gradually drawing away from my weakening body, as I extend every tiny spark of energy I can channel into my shield – transforming it into an unremitting battering ram that hammers incessantly, against the unyielding surface.

I'm dimly aware that I am breathing in great gulps of air, gasping for strength as my vision dims and my head begins to pound in pain. I can feel the dull thump of my slowing heart in my chest; a growing numbness that creeps through my body. But I refuse to stop, refuse to give up.

I push… I shove… I strain; but it is not enough. I… am not enough.

My shield flickers around us, and I know it is failing. I am failing. Silent tears trickle down my face; but I feel no shame. Only remorse for my shortcomings, and regret that I will never see Bella again.

Hurried movement and loud voices surround me; but I can spare them no thought, no active attention. Drawing upon the last breath within me, I cry out to Ares. "Help me, Ares, help me!" I beg.

There is a sudden pressure on my hand that is connected to the navigation ball, and then… I feel it. A surge of energy, of power – so pure, so clean, so different than anything I have ever felt before – that for one tiny moment, my senses are overwhelmed as it races through my body. I latch onto its strength; sucking its renewing vitality into my body, and transmitting it outward into my shield.

I push… I shove… but I no longer have to strain. The power leaves me in one heaving swell – billowing out in a beam so wide, so forceful, so _compelling_ – that it encompasses the entire door when it strikes. The last barrier to our escape is lifted from its moorings, blasted from its tracks, and thrown outward into the storm… where it is caught by the wind, and disappears in an instant.

Beyond the hangar bay entrance is a wide, stable tunnel: a clear, unobstructed hole blown through the worst of the storm, and maintained by rigid walls of my shield; an escape route leading from the dangerous chaos of our disintegrating surroundings, to the safe serenity of the calm skies waiting just outside the storm. Before I can even comprehend what has happened, the shuttle is hurtling through that tunnel – the remaining pieces of the collapsing room tumbling down around us.

The influx of power continues until we have exited the tunnel; but then it is suddenly gone, disappearing as quickly as it came, just as we reach safety and the shield is no longer needed. Its absence leaves me weak and shaking, desperate for rest and the forgetfulness of sleep.

Behind me, the men of Korinth begin to stir… and I am faintly aware of Jasper leaving his chair and moving around behind me, as he relinquishes the piloting to Ares. When I try to flex my hand away from the navigation ball, I realize it is tightly wired in place, the weight I felt earlier still pressing down upon it.

With an exhaustion so overwhelming that I can barely open my heavy eyelids, I struggle to focus on my right hand, desperately trying to understand what I am feeling and seeing. There is another hand on top of mine – both of them wired together so tightly that it is impossible to distinguish between the two. My eyes slowly trace the arm that is connected to that hand, following it until it ends at a shoulder… at a neck… and then, at a face.

For the rest of my life – whether it is long or short, happy or sad – I will never forget the sights and the sounds of the image that confronts me. It is a frozen tableau of despair… of overpowering sorrow, engraved forever in my memory… burned, for all eternity, into my very being.

My brother, Jasper, is standing just off to my right… his mouth open in a wail of heart-rending despair, as he stares at our Father… who sits in the chair beside me now, rocking in abject misery… as he cradles the unmoving form of our Mother.

Her eyes are closed.

Her lungs are quiet.

Her loving and generous heart at peace.

And her hand? Her hand still rests on mine.

.

.

.

AN: Thank you for reading.


	34. Chapter 34

The Protector

Chapter 34

EPOV

Someone is wailing in despair, someone is crying in great gulping shrieks of sorrow.

It hurts my ears, it hurts my throat, it hurts my head… I long for quiet.

Darkness beckons my exhausted body and mind and I welcome its forgetfulness with open arms. It is only when I fall into its forgiving numbness that the sobbing stops.

.

.

Consciousness comes unbidden and unwelcome. I awaken to a vaguely familiar scene: me, stretched out asleep on a bed in the city's infirmary; Bella, sitting in a chair beside me, holding my hand in hers, resting her head on my thigh, as she sleeps soundly.

She looks tired, depleted. Her skin is pale, dark smudges ring her eyes and her face is almost gaunt with exhaustion. Memories of the events of the last few hours come rushing back to me as I study her face.

I am the one who is responsible for her weariness, the one who etched the fatigue on her face; just as I am the one who is responsible for my mother's death.

I am overwhelmed by my guilt, crushed beneath its burden, defeated by its misery. A gut-wrenching cry of anguish wells up from within me, escaping from me in a loud sob. Bella is instantly awake and we stare at each other as tears fill our eyes and trickle unheeded down our faces.

All my life I've been taught that crying is a sign of weakness. We were told to control our emotions, to repress our feelings. I can do none of that now. I feel weak, vulnerable; I need Bella.

She wraps her arms around me, comforting me while I sob on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I repeat over and over. "I'm so, so sorry."

When I have cried myself out, when I'm finally quiet, Bella slowly pulls away from me. "Why are you sorry, Edward?" she softly questions, frowning as she studies my face intently. "What do you think you should feel sorry for? I don't understand."

"For what I did to you, for what I did to Mother."

"Oh, Edward," she sighs, pulling my head back down to rest on her shoulder again. One of her hands slowly rubs up and down my back. Her touch is soothing, and I lean harder against her, welcoming her comfort.

"None of that was your fault, love. You didn't hurt me. It had been hours since I had eaten and I panicked when you started shaking. I gave you too much, too fast, and it just overwhelmed me for a short time. I had already started to come around before you left the valley. Hunter and I watched the shuttle take off together."

"I'm okay, Edward. I truly am, and as for your mother; you had no way of knowing… "

"You don't understand," I snip, pulling away from her comfort, refusing to look at her as I turn my head away. "You weren't there, you don't know. Things were bad, the room was falling apart. Everything was crashing down around us. I begged Ares to help me and when the power came… it was so strong, so clean… so unlike anything I had ever felt before, that I just sucked it in. I latched onto it and I pulled… I pulled everything I could from it. Then I used the power to blast that fucking, stubborn door out of our way."

Bella reaches for me again; but I scramble away from her, getting to my feet, and pacing the room in frustration.

"I drained her, Bella," I yell, halting my pacing to stare at her accusingly. "I took her life force, her energy. I took it all and it killed her. How can you say it's not my fault? How can you say everything is okay?"

I turn my back to her, walking over to the corner of the room before sliding down the wall to sit dejectedly on the floor. "How can you even stand to look at me, Bella? I killed my mother and I'm… sorry."

I raise my head to see her standing before me. There is love and forgiveness in her face; but I refuse to be consoled.

Head resting on my arms that are now wrapped around my knees, sobs wracking my body, I give in to my sorrow, repeating over and over, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

For a long time Bella says nothing, letting me vent my regret, letting me express my remorse. After a while she carefully sits down beside me, leaning back against the wall behind us. Finally, when I've exhausted myself again, she reaches over and gently takes my hand, holding it on the floor between us.

"Edward?" she whispers. "Are you sorry Alice is alive?"

"No, of course not," I mumble, still not able to face her.

"And Mary Alice, are you sorry she is alive?"

I huff a "no" back at her.

Her thumb softly rubs the bumps of my knuckles. Her touch is calming, hypnotizing.

"What about your father? Are you sorry Carlisle is alive?"

Her questions are beginning to irritate me, and I lift my head, staring at her in annoyance. "Of course not, Bella. How can you ask… ?"

But she lifts her other hand silencing me. "What about all the people from Korinth, Jared, and Cora, and the others you've met? Are you sorry they're alive? And what about me, Edward? Are you sorry I'm alive?"

"That's ridiculous! How can you even think something so horrible?" I demand, scooting my body around until I am facing her. "You are the most important person in my life. Of course I'm not sorry you're alive."

She smiles at me gently before she answers my question. "Don't you realize, Edward, that all of us are alive because of what you did? And because of the sacrifice your mother made? No one blames you for what happened."

Bella reaches for my other hand, pulling herself around until we sit facing each other, knee to knee. "There's something you need to know, Edward. Both Jasper and Carlisle tried to give you extra energy when you were pushing on that door. They grabbed your arm, just like I do; but nothing happened. When you begged Ares for help, Esme placed her hand over the navigation ball, and that time it worked. We don't really understand why… but she was able to send you the power you needed."

I stare at Bella while she explains what happened. I have no memory of either my brother or my father trying to help me. All I remember is calling out to Ares and then that sweet rush of power.

"I don't remember that," I whisper. "I needed help and it came when I asked Ares. I thought… I thought it was from him. I didn't know it was Mother."

"You had no way of knowing. No one had any idea she could do that. It worked, though, and it saved you, your brother, your father, and everyone else who was on that ship."

"But maybe if I had only… "

"No, Edward," she interrupts me. "No buts, no what-ifs, no maybes. You can't second guess things, what happened, happened; we can only go forward from here. Your mother loved you, she was proud of you, and she wouldn't have wanted you to live with misplaced guilt or regret. Blaming yourself for something that wasn't your fault, serves no purpose whatsoever. We need to honor your mother's life and her sacrifice by continuing our mission and by living the best life we can."

Bella smiles sadly at me when she finishes speaking. There is something in her expression that tells me she knows more about regret and misplaced blame than she is telling me.

I know she feels guilty about my Fanger bite and the events that led up to it. I know she blames herself for disobeying orders when she came to the valley to see me and was caught and charged with treason. We've discussed her regret for disrupting the planned mission and exposing me to the danger of the storm; but this seems more.

Her gaze drops back to our clasped hands and she frowns slightly, lost in her memories of some sad event.

"Bella?" I finally interrupt her thoughts.

She takes a deep breath, releasing it in a long drawn-out sigh before glancing up at me again.

"You know about the accident that claimed my parents' lives?"

"Yes, Jasper told me."

"And you saw the wreckage at the settlement?"

When I nod, she continues.

"What you don't know, what no one really knows, is that I was supposed to be on that shuttle. It was going to be my first solo mission. The harvest had been poor that year and the settlement and the station were in desperate need of fresh food. I had been training for years with my mother and I knew what needed to be done and how to do it. So, everything was planned for me to go without my parents and complete the mission on my own."

Bella pulls her hands from my grasp, running them over her face and through her hair before looking back at me, despair plainly evident on her features.

"But it was the Harvest Festival and I wanted to stay in the valley, Edward. I wanted to stay because I knew I would have a chance to see you. Even though I still had a year to wait before I could go to the socials, I knew I could spend some time with you at the dinners and during the activities."

"I was selfish, Edward, selfish and immature! I only thought about what I wanted and not about the people in the settlement or the station who were waiting for me to grow the food they needed. So I begged my mother to let me stay; begged her to take my place and let me have that time to enjoy myself."

Bella's story comes to shuddering halt as tears fill her eyes. She swallows roughly, grimacing as she tries to control her emotions and continue. Her voice is shaky with grief as she begins to speak again.

"Mother left, at the last minute my father decided to go with her. He'd been concerned about her pushing herself too hard and thought he could help with some of the planting and harvesting that did not involve her gift. They hugged me when they left, telling me to have fun."

"They left." Bella's voice drops to a faint whisper as she struggles to continue. "They left and never came back; I never saw them again. A freak storm caught their shuttle on reentry and they crashed. They died in that burning wreckage along with the pilot… And it was all my fault, Edward… all my fault."

I watch as she collapses in a sobbing heap in front of me. Reaching out, I grasp her waist and pull her onto my lap, settling her sideways in the space between my folded legs. She leans her shoulder against me and I wrap my arms around her, holding her against my chest, slowly rocking us back and forth as we both recover from our emotional confessions.

When her body stills and her sobs subside, I smooth the hair away from her face, using me thumb to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"It wasn't your fault, love. You can't blame yourself for an accident that you had no way of knowing would happen. Your parents would be so proud of the strong, gifted woman you've become."

Bella snuggles in closer to me as I stroke her arms and shoulders, trying to release some of the tension I feel in her muscles. She reaches for one of my hands, holding it between hers as she absent-mindedly runs her fingers over my palm.

"Esme helped me so much after the accident." Her voice is still soft, still broken. "I couldn't stand to be in our empty house by myself, so she let me move in with your family for awhile until I felt strong enough to live on my own in the city. When I had my ceremony to become an adult woman, she was there. She took my mother's place, guiding me through the steps and pining the white flower of maturity in my hair."

"She was the one who took me aside and explained the reasons why we couldn't be together because of our gifts, and she was always the one I could turn to when the guilt became too much to bear."

"Over and over she would tell me that blame serves no purpose, that regrets are useless if they tie us to the past and prevent us from moving forward and living the best life we can. I had to live, she would say, to honor my parents' memory."

Bella is still holding my hand when she speaks, her grip gradually tightening as she explains the role my mother played in her life. When I flinch at one particularly hard squeeze, she looks at me sheepishly, muttering a quick "sorry" before releasing it. With a quiet sigh, she leans back against my chest again.

"Esme and Renee were good friends, best friends actually," she continues. "Our families spent a lot of time together when we were growing up. I can't remember a time when she wasn't part of my life."

Her statement brings back long forgotten memories of afternoons spent playing in our backyards. Renee's was always filled with growing plants, a veritable riot of colorful flowers and ripening vegetables. She would let me dig in her garden showing me how to care for the plants and letting me pick ripened berries that were devoured while sitting in the warm sun.

I have a sudden picture of my chubby hand clutching a bunch of brightly hued flowers picked as a gift for the pretty baby. A baby whose name my young mouth could not pronounce and so I called her "Bella."

She must feel the sudden stiffening of my body and the surprised intake of my breath when I realize that 'Bella' isn't her given name, because she lifts her head to glance up at me.

"Edward?"

"Your name… It's not really 'Bella' is it? You should have had a name that started with an 'R' just like your mother."

The faint blush that colors her cheeks tells me I've brought up a touchy subject. A wiser person would let the knowledge slide; but the opportunity to tease her, to somehow lighten her mood, is too good to pass up.

"So what is it? What is the real name of the mysterious beauty sitting on my lap?"

She cocks an eyebrow at me, rolling her eyes before huffing, "you really don't want to know."

I can't help the chuckle that escapes me. "Ah, come on," I tease. "It can't be that bad!"

Bella shifts around on my lap again, leaning her back against me as she tucks her head under my chin. My arms automatically wrap around her pulling her snug against me. I wait, but she still doesn't answer my question.

"Bella… ?"

Finally with an exasperated sigh she begins her explanation.

"My name was supposed to be 'Radella' but Mother wanted to name me in honor of Esme, so she took her name and your mother's name, squished them together and added 'ella' to make an completely incomprehensible, unpronounceable name. I never liked it. Mother said I would cry whenever she called me by anything other than 'Bella.' I even remember throwing a few temper tantrums when she would try to get me to answer to my given name. It was years later that I learned you were the one who started calling me Bella because you could not pronounce my real name."

She scoots herself off my lap then, turning to face me as we sit knee to knee, and hand-in-hand. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her skin blotchy from crying; but as I study her face, I know she has never looked more beautiful to me. I squeeze the strong hands that are holding mine and she rewards me with small smile on her still sad face.

"I'm named after two amazing women; but the name I love the most was given to me by my childhood playmate. A little boy who couldn't say my real name; but who grew up to be an amazing man. A man I want to spend the rest of my life with."

"Your mother was right, Edward," she continues. "We both need to let the blame and regret go. We have an important task to complete and by doing so, we honor those we have lost."

"To a successful mission then," I say, raising her hands to plant a quick kiss on the back of each one. "And to a long and happy life in remembrance of those who are no longer with us."

She nods her head in solemn agreement.

I marvel again at this person, this woman, who loves me in spite of my flaws and that I love in spite of hers. As I look at her lovely face, I realize that this is the right time, the perfect time, to tell her how much she means to me.

"I love you, Bella," I state. "With my mind, with my body, with my heart, with every part of me… I love you."

The happiness that transforms her face is a wonderful thing to see, and I vow that I will tell her everyday for the rest of our lives. She squeezes my hands in return and then leans forward to kiss me softly on my lips.

"I know, Edward," she whispers. "I know."

.

.

AN Sorry for the long wait between updates. Hubby and I took an amazing vacation to London and Edinburgh. Such a wonderful place! All mistakes in this chapter are mine. Thank you for reading.


	35. Chapter 35

The Protector

Chapter 35

EPOV

Although unplanned and certainly unanticipated, introducing the citizens of Korinth to the residents of our valley _before_ our scheduled exodus proved to be the eye-opening, life-altering experience that was needed to begin the joining of two diverse groups of people.

The adult women of our valley were already taught the truth of the Thaay and the settlement, including the how and why of our leaving; but learning something in theory is an entirely different situation than seeing it as a real certainty. The people of Korinth were the undeniable evidence of the truth of our circumstances; yet it was still difficult for some of our women to fully grasp just who – and what reality these visitors represented – finally stood facing them, before their very eyes.

What proved a challenge to those women who'd been secretly forewarned was even harder for most of the adult men, the active Protectors, and the cadets. Years of training – of obeying all orders to vigilantly defend, of believing in the elaborate stories of the vague but omnipresent evil threat, know only as the Thaay – had left them steadfastly reluctant; almost viscerally and mentally incapable of even considering such an alternate reality.

Yet, suddenly they were being asked to accept hundreds of strangers into their home valley. Strangers, who – until just a few days before – would have been viewed as the enemy, as a reason to call to arms. Instead our men had to completely reconsider and rewrite their own history, their own ingrained code of honor – as well as their entire place and purpose in the order of things.

It was not an easy task.

There were heated discussions, accusations of disloyalty, threats of treason. Some arguments lasted for hours, and some even escalated into angry violence; yet, in the end, cooler heads prevailed – encouraged, I suspect, by Jasper's gift – and the refugees were, albeit reluctantly by a few holdouts, welcomed and provided with food, shelter, and clothing.

Finding ourselves at this crucial crossroads of defining what kind of society we wished to be, I couldn't help but be proud of our people. Reminded of Mother's faith in _all_ of us, I like to think that after more quiet deliberation… and, sometimes, after wrestling with their own conscience… most _did_ understand that it would have been cruel and heartless to deny them succor. They had emerged from the shuttle scared, frightened and reeling from the aftereffects of the ordeal they had just endured. Covered in dust – wearing the only clothes they owned, and completely bereft of all personal belongings – the refugees from Korinth were the living example of what could have happened to _each_ of us, had it been our home that was destroyed.

It was true they did not look _exactly_ like us: their skin tone was different; their hair and eyes a range of colors we had never seen; and their speech was slightly altered. Yet there was no denying they were – surface differences aside – _just_ like us. They were people looking for a secure future; people who had left their home valley and everything they had known all their lives, to settle in an underground city on the promise of a new, safe place to live. They wanted what we all want: a home, a family, a sense of belonging… and, at least, a _hope_ of happiness.

If the refugees' plight had begun the joining of our two peoples, it was my mother's death that eventually and irrevocably fused us as one.

The people from Korinth sincerely, actively and openly mourned her passing. They had known her in a completely different way than most of us had. To them, she was the daughter of Emily – the revered and almost legendary shield, who had escorted most of their fellow Korinthians to safety on a new world. She was also then the head of the governing council and, for many of them, the only leader they had ever known. Mother had taken care of their welfare and security, making sure they had food and supplies as conditions began to deteriorate in their valley; and when they could no longer live there safely, she was the one to help them move into the settlement.

And, finally, they had known her as the person who had promised them a happy future on a new world; a promise that would come true because of me, the son she had borne and believed in.

So, when all our people gathered in somber silence to witness the carving of Mother's name into the stone remembrance wall of our city, we watched in stunned disbelief as the people of Korinth openly, and without restraint, grieved her passing. Several of their citizens stepped forward to share stories of her help and generosity. A traditional Korinthian farewell song was sung in her honor, and bouquets of wildflowers were heaped against the wall where her name had been chiseled. All the while, our citizens watched and marveled at their show of emotion, and felt deeply their public outpouring of private grief.

Led by Alice as the only daughter, my father, my brothers and I lifted the funeral litter upon which her shrouded body lay. When we began the trek up the slopes of Olympus towards her final resting place, we discovered our new fellow citizens, brothers and sisters alike, had lined the road outside the city – throwing flowers at our feet, and weeping as we passed. In was in that shared moment of mourning and honor that their love and respect for her ended all thoughts of them or us, they or we. On that day, we became one people: united by her sacrifice, and joined together in facing the challenge that lay before us.

By necessity, planning for our departure resumed immediately – and at an unavoidably frantic pace, even a mere day after her service.

Matrons and officers worked together to organize groups of people who were responsible for the ever-growing list of tasks that had to be completed before we could leave the planet. The stores of dried and preserved food to feed Bella and me on our own long trip were still inadequate, so the larders were searched and stripped bare of those remaining provisions, before they were ferried to the ship.

Farm implements and equipment, seeds for planting, and everything else needed to start raising food on our new home were gathered, organized and stored.

An entire blacksmith's shop – complete with metallurgy tools, anvils, bellows, and raw lump ore – was dismantled, sorted, then carefully packed away.

Weapons of all sorts and conditions were cleaned and repaired; the arrow-crafters and flint-knappers working especially long hours to mend, make, and stockpile thousands of arrows for use on our new home.

Textiles, clothing, and even a disassembled loom were transported to the storage areas on the ship. Nothing that would help ensure our survival on the new planet was overlooked or forgotten. Every possible item that would be useful was meticulously stored and labeled.

Jasper and Hunter took the large shuttle, loaded to capacity with supplies, and made the first trip to the waiting ship. They returned with the smaller shuttle we had left there; and, after that, both vehicles were used – almost daily – to transport the gathered provisions and equipment. Several other trained pilots helped them; even Emmett took his turn at co-piloting. But they never asked me. I think they knew and understood that it was too soon for me to feel comfortable entering a shuttle, and that I would have refused their request anyway, had they even asked.

During the next few days and weeks that followed, Emmett proved his true, latent prowess as a leader. When tempers flared and strong words were exchanged, it was his calm sensibility that disarmed the tension. When problems arose and difficulties surfaced, it was Emmett, the unexpected new mediator and moderator in our midst, who found solutions to the obstacles. And it was Emmett who could, somehow unfailingly, encourage and inspire confidence – when either the strongest, or the most exhausted of our people – became doubtful or disheartened.

My twin brother – whom I had once laughingly claimed always had a way with words – confirmed that he did, indeed, have a way with words; and he effectively used that gift to rally our people into becoming a unified team, intent upon successfully completing the task before us all.

I heard and learned of these activities secondhand; usually through Rose, or Jasper, or even Mary Alice, who visited our family home often to keep us informed about the happenings in our valley. Emmett came when he could, but he was usually too busy to spend much time away from his duties.

After our discussion in the hospital, Bella and I visited my former room in the Rangers' barracks. Entering the doorway brought on an almost crippling flood of memories and emotions. As I sat on the edge of the bed – Bella gripping my hand reassuringly – I couldn't help but relive everything that had happened to me in such a short time.

Had it really been only thirteen days since I left the valley on my first mission? The naive boy that Hunter had sent on his way into the Wastelands, with the promise of finding the truth compelling his footsteps forward, had emerged on the other side a man – fully aware of the secret of the Thaay; savvy to the complex inner workings of his society; and cognizant of the bleak future that awaited us all if we did not leave this planet. I knew and accepted my role in that leaving, in the plans that had been in place long before my birth; plans that had shaped and dictated my mother's entire life.

But all this knowledge had come with such a price! Some small part of me longed for that left-behind innocence; yet I did not have the luxury of time for regrets, and knew there was no going back – either to that place, or to that time, of unknowing.

Sighing in resignation, I took one long, last look around the room before I gathered the few remaining personal items I had left there. Then, after retrieving Bella's belongings from her quarters in the city, we moved into my family's home, situated in one of the outlying villages. I needed to stay close to my father and Alice, and I think they were grateful to have us with them.

By all outward appearances, my father seemed to be dealing fairly well with my mother's death; but I heard him crying in his room late at night, when he thought or hoped we were all sleeping. I understood that he was privately grieving the young woman he had pursued so many years ago, who had become his life-mate and mother to his children, in the only way he knew how: with the quiet, stoic demeanor we had been taught since birth. And I also understood that his pain was no less real, however he chose to allow himself to express it.

The four of us relied heavily upon each other as we tried, each day, to adjust to the painful changes in our lives.

Alice was the one I worried about most. The happy, chatty, bubbling young girl we all cherished had morphed into a silent, slipping shadow of herself. She drifted restlessly from room to room, running her hands over the furnishings and family belongings… in an effort, I assumed, to reassure herself that they were safe, solid, real… and in no danger of being ripped from her. She also carefully collected most of Mother's grooming items – a carved wooden hand mirror; shell brushes and combs; pretty hairpins, clips, ribbons, and even a few pieces of her clothing – and moved them all to her room, where she created her own comforting ritual in using them daily. Knowing my little sister was protectively hoarding away these few precious, everyday treasures we still had left to touch and see, I could only hope she was remembering happier times, when the two of them would laugh and chat about their daily activities and Mother would comb and brush Alice's hair before bedtime.

All the truths that I had to learn, understand and accept – as a nineteen-year-old, newly-promoted Protector – had been forced upon my thirteen-year-old sister with almost no preparation and very little support. For her the 'magic' of watching Bella forcibly grow plants with her gift; the uniqueness of living underground, in a settlement filled with technological wonders; and even the joyful acceptance and admiration she had felt from the people of Korinth… these had all suddenly been replaced with the deafening terror of the storm, the utter annihilation of the settlement, and the almost unimaginable sacrifice of our mother. Alice had been forced to face the cold, hard realization – at a much younger age than most of us – that danger and death were very real in our world; and that none of us, however beloved or bereft, were exempt from the effects of that difficult truth.

And together, as a family, we had _all_ discovered that even my inherited shield – with its promise of protection and safety – could exact an impossibly high price.

My brothers both dealt with our mother's death in their own ways.

Jasper and Mary Alice had taken up residence in our old Rangers' room. They lived openly together there, as a committed couple. Jasper confessed that our sorrow and overwhelming emotions were difficult for him to deal with, so he deliberately kept his visits short, but frequent. He found a release for his feelings by pouring himself into the physical activity of preparing for our departure, spending hours shuttling supplies between the valley and the space station.

Emmett had surprised everyone by leaving the officers' quarters almost immediately, moving into Rose's apartment in the city. I knew their shared sorrow had deepened their feelings for each other. They also spent more time with Rose's parents, who had accepted Emmett as Rose's partner and future husband, and welcomed him into their family. His new role as valley mediator during this stressful time helped keep him mentally and physically occupied.

Emmett may have been the first to leave the barracks; but it didn't take long for everyone to realize that our old way of life was at an end, and there was no longer any real or perceived reason for families or lovers to live in separate accommodations. Soon, even the youngest cadets were leaving their dormitory rooms, returning to their parents' homes. Protectors who were in committed relationships sought apartments or rooms to share with the women they loved.

Riley showed up at our house soon afterwards, explaining that he missed his sister; and with nowhere else to stay, he wanted to be close to her for the remainder of our time in the valley. Bella welcomed him with open arms. From the few shy glances I noticed from time to time, I think Alice was more than pleased that he was with us. His presence seemed to cheer her; and the subdued, sad girl, who had haunted our home for days, gradually gave way to the more familiar version that we missed so much.

As for me? I stayed away from the city and its activities during this time, still too deep in my self-loathing to interact with the people there.

Bella was accepting and understanding of my reluctance to leave our home; fiercely holding me close at night, and gently soothing away the nightmares when I woke screaming. I clung to her – barely letting her out of my sight during the day, and unable to keep from wrapping myself around her at night. Her patience with me seemed to be endless; but I knew that she, and the rest of my family, believed it was time for me to face the responsibilities that were waiting for me in the city.

One afternoon, Father asked me to help him with a project in our backyard. He was considering trying to take a beehive with us on our journey, and wondered if my shield would suspend time for the bees colony, just like it did for most people. We stopped beside one of the hives, and stilled for a moment. I carefully opened my shield, covering the two of us and the bees inside their box. When we checked inside, we found the bees frozen in mid-activity – proof that my shield did, indeed, affect them as well, and that they would probably survive the flight to our new home.

Following our little experiment, we began to walk aimlessly around the area. While we wandered, Father began a very patient, but very deliberate, discussion about my reluctance to leave our home. His words were reassuring, much like Bella's had been; telling me that Mother wouldn't have wanted me to blame myself for what had happened; that she was proud of me and my abilities, and I should honor her by living a long and happy life. These were all words and reasons and reassurances that I had heard before.

But it was his next statement that gave me pause – and forced me to acknowledge what was really bothering me.

"Edward," he said, stepping in front of me so that I had to look at him. "There are several thousand people, working day after day, to prepare everything that will be needed to leave this planet. They've listened to the scientists, the advisory council, and the Matrons tell them that this is something they must do to survive. They've heard and accepted all the reasons, all the arguments; but it is difficult for them to keep working towards a goal when the person who will help them achieve that goal is absent, hiding away… lost in his grief."

"They've been asked to risk their lives and rest their futures on your shield – a shield they have never seen or experienced. The people _need_ to at least see _you_ , son."

"They need to see you strong and confident in your ability to lead them on this journey. They need to see your shield, and how it works, and how it will protect them. They need something real and solid to believe in."

Father studies my face, waiting for my reply; but I look away from his inspection.

"Surely, you are not doubting yourself, after all that has happened? Your shield is powerful, and more than adequate for this mission. So… it must be something else that is holding you back, that is keeping you from taking an active part in the preparations… ?"

Reaching out, he suddenly grabs my shoulder, forcing me to face him again as he pleads for understanding. "What is it, Edward? What is holding you back?"

As I stand facing my father, I realize there _is_ something beyond my guilt that has been keeping me away from the city and the people. But it is difficult to express my thoughts; and I stutter and stop several times before I can organize my feelings and my words. Father waits patiently, giving me the time I need to compose my reasons.

"I think… I think it's because they look at me differently now. All my life, I've just been Edward: your third son, Jasper's younger brother, Emmett's twin, and Alice's older brother. I was secure and happy in that, in my life, and in its routine. I knew I was a good cadet; maybe a bit odd at times, a little different; but loyal, steady… normal."

Shrugging my shoulders, I stop; trying, once more, to gather my thoughts.

"Now… now, suddenly I'm not. Now, I'm something… ' _other_ '… and the Protectors and my cohort look at me as if they no longer know me."

"At Mother's service, I noticed Ben staring at me as if I were something he wanted to study in his laboratory; and when I caught Mike's eye, he sneered, then turned away, like I was a Thaay-loving traitor he couldn't stand to look at, even for a moment. These are people I've known all my life; but now…. "

I shake my head, my words failing as I try to explain how their actions affected me.

"And the people from Korinth don't really know me at all. They just see me as Edward, Esme's son with the strange shield, who came and got them during the storm," I sigh, shaking my head. "I'm not really a person to them, either."

Father nods his head, slowly, while I finish. I can tell he is carefully considering his response to me as he stares off into the distance, vaguely focusing on something over my right shoulder. He begins hesitantly, patiently, as he tries to persuade me that my feelings, although natural and normal, are misplaced.

"I understand, Edward. I really do. But I believe you are underestimating the respect and admiration the people from Korinth have for you – especially now, after you saved them from the storm. You are their hero, in every sense of the word; and the only way for them to relate to you on a more personal level is for you to spend time with them. Start by having a meal with Jasper, Mary Alice and Jared. Meet the rest of her family and friends. Help them complete the projects they are working on. They _want_ to meet you, son. They _want_ you to join them."

"As for the people of our valley, well… it's hard for some of them to overcome years of prejudice and training; but the people who really know you, the people who are truly your friends, they will know you haven't changed that much. They still care for you."

I've been, unknowingly, shaking my head in denial while Father tries to reason with me. He stops speaking with a resigned huff, running his hand through his hair in frustration, before turning back to face me again. Although he is still my father, and although his words are still measured and patient, I can hear the retired officer in the authority of his next statement – and the cadet in me recognizes it is more order than suggestion.

"I'm sorry, Edward, I truly am; but this is not about what we want or feel anymore. This task, this mission… it's bigger and more important than both of us. You _can't_ hide away here anymore, son. You _must_ let the people see you, and your shield. They want something to believe. And right now, they _need_ to believe in you."

My father is right, I know he is; and I accept that I can no longer hide in our house.

It is time for me to do my duty.

I'm not surprised when Hunter knocks on our door after breakfast the next morning. I greet him warmly – freshly showered, clean-shaven, and dressed in an everyday Protector uniform. He nods in approval when he sees me.

He is wearing full Ranger gear: leather pants, moccasins, and an ankle-length cloak. The tunic storage shirt, with its pockets and water bladder enclosure, has been replaced with a more formal, fitted, cream-colored linen shirt. Over it, he wears a leather vest, his Oath medal pinned beside his mission medals – one for each completed assignment – on the left chest. A Rangers' knife is strapped to his right thigh, and his long whip is looped over his left shoulder.

He is an imposing, authoritative figure as he leads me outside to the roadway.

During our walk to the city, he questions me, in-depth, about my journey into the Wastelands; asking for details about what I saw, the haboob, Korinth, and, finally, the circumstances that led to me being bitten by the Fanger. I catch the slight shake of his head – not to mention the smirk he barely tries to hide – when I confess my earlier inattention.

But then, in my moment of embarrassing trainee admission, my former instructor does something I do not expect: he apologizes to me, explaining that he had to withhold information until they were sure my gifts were stable, and that I could learn to control and manipulate them. He tells me that arrangements were being made to reveal the secrets of our society, and to send me to the settlement by way of the old mining shaft – where Jasper was to have been waiting for me in the rover. Once there, I would have been briefed on the plans for evacuating the planet; and from then on, things would have proceeded in a more normal, more planned method.

We glance at each other, for a moment… before we can't help but share a rueful gust of a snort, as we both acknowledge that _nothing_ about my leaving the valley had been 'normal' or 'planned.'

And at that thought, I am, once again, reminded of my nighttime conversation with Bella in the settlement; when she confessed to disobeying orders, and to returning to the valley, just to see me. Her desire had led to her capture, arrest and trial; and then, eventually, to my adventures outside the safety of the valley walls.

I remember her regret, and her overwhelming guilt for thinking that she had caused my injury. My words of reassurance to her then are the same ones she has used to help me deal with my own guilt.

When we reach the city, Hunter leads me through a maze of side streets until we emerge in front of a small building, situated towards in the back edges of town. I immediately recognize it as the home of Eleazar and his wife, the elderly couple who made my Ranger gear and clothing.

They greet us with smiles and a warm welcome when we enter the front room that serves as their shop. Carmen disappears into a workroom in the back, reappearing with a stack of clothing – which she then carefully places into my hands, with a quiet "thank you for your service."

I am speechless at their generosity as I gaze down at a full set of Ranger uniforms and attire. The knitted thermals are just as soft and as warm as I remember; the leather pants and moccasins, that protected my ankle from the Fanger, just as strong and supple. They've included a hooded, full-length woolen cloak with a mesh breathing mask, as well as the linen over-shirt, with its pockets and storage loops.

As I run my fingers over the familiar gear, I share with the elderly couple how the thermals kept me warm during the cold nights of my journey; how the cloak and breathing mask protected me from the blowing dust of the haboob. I brag on the practicality of the over-shirt, with its pockets and drinking tube, and praise the durability of the pants and running moccasins. I thank them, over and over, for their generosity.

Eleazar then presents me with the same type of shirt and vest that Hunter is wearing. The Ranger insignia is embroidered in tiny, colorful stitches on the upper left sleeve of the shirt, and my Oath-Taker medal is pinned next to a completed mission medal on the left side of the vest. I shake my head in denial when I see it. Hunter stops me when I start to remove it, explaining that I had completed my mission and accomplished the task that had been assigned to me.

"You deserve it, Edward," he tells me, before instructing me to use the backroom to change into my Ranger uniform.

Slipping into the leather clothing feels like greeting an old friend who has been missing for a long time. I had forgotten how comfortable the pants and shoes were. The new linen shirt is soft and pleasant on my skin, and the vest with its medals makes me feel accomplished and official. I fasten the cloak around my shoulders, flipping the front and sides to hang down my back. Hunter hands me a beautifully crafted knife in a leather sheath, which I attach to my right thigh when I emerge fully dressed from the backroom.

He studies me thoroughly, nodding his approval as I stand before him. When I shift nervously, he frowns and tells me to straighten up and quit fidgeting.

"There are hundreds and hundreds of men in this valley; but only three of us are authorized to wear the uniform you have on right now. You are a Ranger – a trained, highly-skilled warrior who went into the Wastelands and faced, firsthand, the dangers there. Wear your leathers with pride, Edward; you've earned the respect of your fellow Protectors, and the admiration of the people you serve."

From the corner of my eye, I can see both Carmen and Eleazar nodding in agreement with Hunter's words. The smiles on their faces are replaced with smothered chuckles at his next words.

"Now: we're going to march out that door, and down to the worksite – where we can show everyone just how special you are, and how good we both look in these leather pants."

Then, with a wink and the smirk I've missed so much, he strides confidently out into the street. I follow behind him, matching his strut with my own.

We find my brothers, along with a large group of men, carefully packing and crating the heavy pieces from the blacksmith shop. Jasper is dressed similarly to Hunter and me, and I wonder if this is an agreed-upon strategy between the two of them. If it is, it seems to be working, because our arrival is met with appreciative glances and whispers from a group of women working nearby… and with respectful nods from the men we join.

For the rest of the morning, we pack, label, and load the crates into the shuttle; stopping only for a midday meal, delivered to us by a group of younger cadets. The women, who were working on the smaller shuttle, join us for a picnic as we all sit on the grass and enjoy our break.

I am vaguely aware of the cadets, bored now that their chore is completed, playing tag, running in and around the stacked crates. Their carefree laughter and shouting is a pleasant backdrop to the adult conversation around us. My mind wanders… as I let myself fully relax, for the first time in days.

But my daydreaming is soon interrupted by a piercing scream – and I glance sharply up, to see Jessica running frantically towards the large shuttle. A cadet, whom I now recognize as her younger brother, is staring in wide-eyed, frozen fright at the tower of crates that teeters threateningly above him. Her scream brings us all to our feet as the men rush forward, desperate to steady the stack before it can fall. I know, instinctively, that they will be too late; and in less time than it takes to have that thought, I throw out my shield, wrapping the boy in a hard dome that ensures his safety… even as the topmost container begins its heavy and inevitable downward fall.

There are more shouts and screams, as everyone realizes they will be too late to save him; but when the crate shatters against the top of my shield, which is now glittering in the afternoon sun, there is stunned silence. I realize that for everyone except Hunter and Jasper, this is the first time they have actually seen the shield they have heard so much about.

It doesn't take long for Hunter and my brothers to move the remaining crates away from the area. Everyone else is watching in questioning confusion at the young boy, frozen safely inside the dome. When the debris is cleared away, I retract my shield and release him from its effects.

Jessica runs over and grabs him immediately, checking him over carefully for nonexistent injuries, before she turns to me. Her lips are quivering; her eyes are full of frightened tears.

"Thank you, Edward. _Thank_ you," she manages to mumble, before leading her still-trembling brother away.

"Ranger Edward."

A voice nearby draws my attention, and I turn to find Mike standing beside me. The shock of what just happened is still plain to see on his face; but he looks at me steadfastly, before saluting me with respect. "I apologize for my previous thoughts, actions, and misconceptions; and I thank you for saving the cadet's life. I… "

Here, Mike's formal apology stutters to a halt, as he shifts his body nervously.

"I'm sorry, Edward," he finally says. "We've known each other all our lives; you're my cohort mate, and my friend. I should never have doubted you. Thank you," he adds, this time with obvious sincerity, as he steps away to quickly follow Jessica.

After Mike's apology and his departure, the groups resume their chores; but the tension is gone now and the rest of the afternoon is filled with laughter and light-hearted conversation. Several of the men and women approach me, and – after thanking me for saving the boy's life – ask questions about my shield, and how it will be used to protect the ship.

I answer all their inquiries freely – even demonstrating its time-suspending effects on some of the younger girls, who collapse into giggling silliness when they watch their friends being frozen mid-step. They make a game of seeing who can be caught in the most ridiculous poses while inside my shield. But when I catch one of them in mid-jump – leaving her suspended in mid-air, floating above the ground inside a glittering bubble – the laughs turn to gasps of awe, and nods of comprehension.

Father was right: they needed to see my shield, in action; and what it can do, in real but suspended time, to protect them. Now they may understand how powerful it really is, and how it will guard us on our journey.

I catch more than one encouraging nod from Hunter.

That evening, Father, Alice, Bella and I walk together, towards the city for the evening meal.

A few days after our return flight, people had begun gathering in the dining and social halls to share the last meal of the day. Over the weeks that followed, almost everyone had abandoned their own home kitchens to join in the communal meals. It became a welcome relief from the routine of daily chores, and a more relaxed time for visiting and socializing. When the meal was over and the clean-up complete, several musicians brought out their instruments; and the informal party would continue, until sleepy children and exhausted parents finally called it a night.

Tonight, we enter the dining room to find almost the entire population gathered there, and in the adjoining rooms. Some have even spilled over into the courtyards, enjoying a meal in the waning sunshine. We are met with kind greetings and friendly smiles. The story of me saving Jessica's younger brother, and the demonstrations that followed, have spread throughout the community. More than one person thanks me for my actions. There is a festive feeling in the air; a cheerful joyousness that seems to infect everyone in attendance.

Father's insistence that the people need to see me, need to believe in me, is now almost painfully obvious. As the evening proceeds, I feel their acceptance and affection. Their warm regard wraps me in a blanket of welcome approval, just as I silently pledge and trust my shield will one day wrap them in a cloak of safety.

As it happens, that day comes sooner than we are mentally equipped for.

Over the course of the next few weeks, the people of our valley redouble their efforts to physically prepare for our leaving. Gradually, the lists of chores become shorter and shorter. Each day is spent in shared activity; each evening in shared socializing.

Physically, we are ready; mentally, we are not quite – because suddenly, on one unappointed, unofficial day – we stop.

All the planning, all the preparation, all the anticipation… it is all over.

The lists are completed; the tasks are concluded.

Everything is done. Everything is finished.

It is time to leave.

.

.

AN: As always, thank you for reading, and, as always, thank you to my beta, Bellebiter, without whom this chapter would have never have reached its final form.

I wish I had some deeply significant words of wisdom to share after the horrifying events in Vegas; but I don't. All I can offer are my sincere condolences to any of you who were directly affected by the violence. I'm an old woman who has seen and experienced a lot in her lifetime; but nothing has prepared me for what I see happening in our country right now. It is my sincere hope that we can find a calm, sane way to work through our differences. Maybe we all need a little Jasper in our lives! Stay safe, dear readers.


	36. Chapter 36

The Protector

Chapter 36

EPOV

On the day of our leaving… the final day of our life in this valley, and on this planet… Bella and I stand together atop one of the lookout towers of our city's walls.

We're both filled with a strange, confusing mix of emotions as the first group of citizens prepares to board the shuttle. After weeks of intensive activity towards a shared goal – a mutual purpose that coalesced two disparate peoples into one consolidated, unified team – there is almost a sense of disappointment that we have finally finished our preparations, that everything is completed and it is time to leave.

At the same time, there is excitement for the adventure that lies before us. I can't help but imagine the amazing things Bella and I will see and experience on the journey to our new home.

But it is difficult to say goodbye to this place that has been my only real home, and the home of all my people, for generations and generations; to leave my ancestors – perhaps forever – who, like my mother, are buried high on the upper slopes of Olympus.

My gaze wanders to that mountain, whose snow-capped summit towers over the valley below it. When we escaped from the storm-ravaged settlement with information about the quickly declining snow pack, the scientists and engineers climbed to the ice field and returned with proof that it was, indeed, melting much more rapidly than they expected.

I let my eyes follow the winding paths of the irrigation system that funnels melted snow down the mountain… distributing water throughout the foothills, covered in orchards, and then into the fields of growing crops, on the valley floor… and I wonder: how much time is left before the system – that engineering marvel that I admired so much during my training rotations – no longer functions? How much longer before our fields and orchards resemble the dry, desiccated, lifeless ones of Korinth?

Shaking my head to dispel those sad thoughts, I focus instead on other parts of my valley; remembering happier days spent running in the sunshine with my brothers and friends in our little village, which I can just barely see from our lookout tower. I remember neighborhood cookouts filled with the chatter of the adults, shrieks of playing children, and the aroma of cooking food. I remember leaving that village behind when the trainers came for Emmett and me on our eighth beginning day, and the strange feel of the cadet uniform we wore proudly for the first time the next day.

Memories… both happy and sad, good and bad… crowd my mind as I let my thoughts ramble through all the years of my life spent in this valley.

Even now, I can feel the smooth, polished wood of my first bow; the heavy, metal weight of a sword too large for my young arm; the aching muscles that came from hours of physical training – deliberately offset by hours spent in a classroom learning about math, and history, and science. I can still remember the startling discovery that the marks on the page were letters that formed words – and that if I learned to read them, they would speak to me. Years of schooling, learning and work rotations… of weapons training, drilling, and obeying orders… all recalled, as my eyes roam the familiar buildings and open spaces of my home.

This city, on whose walls we stand, holds our collective memories of celebrations, of harvest festivals and Oath-Taking rituals. How many young, in-love couples held their commitment ceremonies here? How many babies took their first breath in the nearby infirmary? And, I wonder, how many names of my ancestors are chiseled into the Remembrance Wall?

Thinking of those names makes me speculate what the valley must have looked like when they first arrived. I'm sure there would have been grass, trees, and a few animals. I know they struggled; I'm aware of how hard they worked to survive, and I know they had help from the people living in the other valleys. Standing here, I'm surrounded by the evidence of their perseverance and fortitude. Everywhere I look, I see their handiwork. Our entire civilization is built on the foundation they left us.

Yet it is a foundation that is crumbling away; a civilization that has reached the end of its life on this world, and can only survive by leaving where it began.

For a moment, I let myself imagine what will happen to my home in the future. Eventually, inevitably, the water supply will dwindle and dry up. The plants and grasses will die, leaving the soil vulnerable to the storms – which will only grow more powerful. If a single freak storm could destroy the underground settlement, how much destruction could a series of them inflect upon our exposed buildings? How much longer before the bulk of Olympus could no longer protect any of us from the fury of a dying world?

Images of ravaged buildings… of wind-scoured ruins, and dust-covered fields… overlay any green that surrounds me. I can't help but wonder just how much of what we have built will actually survive. Surely _something_ will be left of the stone buildings and walls of our city? Or will the future centuries of exposure grind the stones into nothing but powdery grains, in which only the architecture of thoughts… of our ordered society, of our memories, of our experiences… remain as rubble?

If our descendants could manage to return, would they find any trace of the people who lived and died here? Will the archives of our civilization that we have carefully packed and secured away, behind the sealed doors of a storage cave carved deep within the cliffs of Olympus, actually survive the long passage of time?

The idea of trying to preserve some of our heritage had been Bella's idea.

One afternoon, we had been casually discussing the settlement when I idly mentioned that I hoped the sealed archives room had survived – and that it would continue to survive, for eons to come – under its protective covering of sand and soil. I vividly remember how her face immediately lit up with the thought that we might be able to leave something of our valley behind, too.

We broached the topic at our next planning meeting, and everyone liked the idea. So began our project to collect and store information, as well as remnants of our society, that we hoped best represented us.

Books and scrolls from the valley archives were carefully packed away. Selected examples of our weapons, textiles and crafts were also added to the trove. We included a few pieces of everyday clothing, alongside the more formal ceremonial robes. Samples of the food we ate were preserved and added; small packets of seeds, and pieces of animal fur and feathers, were placed in their own containers. Anything that was important to understanding at least the rudimentary fundamentals and workings of our society was carefully packed, with reference notes attached, in the storage boxes.

People were encouraged to leave personal mementos; even to write stories about their lives, and what it was like to live in our valley. Finally, the very last document added was a long scroll, containing the signatures of everyone who was leaving the planet.

The storage caves were determined to have the best possible chance of surviving any form of destruction, so all the collected items – all the souvenirs and records and testaments of our lives – were placed deep within the largest cave. The entrance had then been carefully sealed, in a ceremony that marked our final evening on this world.

Would one of our descendants – or perhaps an explorer from an unknown people – someday stumble upon the artifacts we have left behind? Would the future elsewhere ever be marked by – and learn from – our mistakes and successes, that we have made here?

Once again, I shake my head to rid it of these almost overwhelming musings. Bella must sense my unease, because she moves closer to me, wrapping her arm around my waist and snuggling into my side. Glancing down at her, I am blessed with a smile – and an inquiring lift of her eyebrows. I hug her closer to me, reassuring her that I am okay before pulling my thoughts away from the world we are leaving, toward the one that holds our future.

What will we find when we finally arrive? Will it be beautiful, and life-sustaining? What new dangers and challenges will we encounter? Can we survive and prosper there?

Other ships left in the past, and we know that at least some of those arrived safely; but we have no information about what happened to the people after they left their ships, or about how they fared when trying to settle on the planet.

Ares says our plans are to land somewhere fairly close to the other group sites, if possible. He describes our final destination as a chain of islands, scattered around the edge of a large, inland sea.

It strikes me again how similar our lives are to those of Elizabeth, Ares, and that first group of refugees. We, too, are leaving a destroyed world, seeking a safe place to build a new home. We, too, will struggle and have to work hard in order to survive; and we, too, will need the help of the people from other cities, those souls who have gone before us.

These and other reflections fill my mind while we watch one group after another board the waiting shuttles, only to be transported skyward to the great ship waiting for them. Each person carries a small bag, filled with personal items and keepsakes; mere mementos of the life they are leaving behind.

Once on the ship, they will be directed to their assigned area and cot – where they can securely stow away their belongings, and retrieve the sleeping aid which Dr. Marcus and Riley, his new assistant, have prepared for them. When everyone is on board, they will take the medication… and we'll all be on our way.

Father and Alice observe the departures with us. Jasper, Mary Alice, Jared, Emmett and Rose are helping with the evacuation, as well as with the activities onboard.

We are quietly joined in our watching by a small group of people who are not leaving the valley. Most of them are elderly citizens who have decided, for various reasons, not to leave on our journey; opting, instead, to live out the rest of their lives in the only home they have ever known. Our engineers and the scientists have assured them that the water supply should last long enough to raise crops and care for animals that can sustain them for their remaining years.

I am not surprised to find Eleazar and Carmen in the group that is staying.

Over the weeks since they gifted me with my Ranger clothing, I've been able to spend more time with them, joining them for several meals each week. They've shared stories of their childhoods; tales of events that happened long before I was born. Their remembrances – both good and bad, funny and sad – revealed a deep-seated love for their home, and I understand their wish to remain here.

I've also learned that I am distantly related to both of them, through my mother's lineage and my father's family. They have started calling me 'cousin,' and I welcome the sense of family that title gives me.

It is a surprise, however, when Dr. Banner announces that he, too, will be staying in the valley. He explains that he feels duty-bound to care for the people who are not leaving; yet I know that his wife and only child are interred on the slopes of Olympus, and that he must prefer to join them there, someday. Until then, he will stay and take care of his fellow citizens, easing their passing when their time here comes to an end.

The last group has left on the large shuttle when we begin to make our way to the open field, where the smaller shuttle has been left for us. We've said our goodbyes, been blessed with safe journey wishes, and taken one long, last look at our home.

Carmen enfolds Bella in a warm, motherly embrace before handing her a wrapped package. Whatever she whispers into Bella's ear causes her to blush slightly, before turning away from my questioning eyes. Eleazar kisses her softly on the cheek and wishes her much happiness, then turns to me. He snaps to attention before honoring me with a perfectly executed salute, addressing me as Ranger Edward. I return the salute, before hugging them both. After one last, lingering farewell, we join Father and Alice.

When we reach the shuttle, we turn and wave goodbye… to those remaining few, watching from the top of the wall… before entering the craft. Bella and I sit in the control chairs, suddenly concentrated, and busy – fastening the safety harnesses, adjusting the headsets, and linking to Ares through the navigation balls.

The shuttle rises slowly, allowing us a final look at those left behind. Then, with a dip of our wing, we bank sharply to the right – swooping up and over the orchards and fields, the roads and the villages, the irrigation systems and the water reservoirs, the loom buildings and the blacksmith shops, the barrier wall with its barracks – and, finally, the forests and snow-capped peak of Olympus. We circle the valley in one giant loop… one last parting salute… before climbing swiftly into the sky, towards the slowly setting sun.

The journey is a quiet one; each of us lost in our thoughts of the old life we are leaving behind, wondering about the new one that awaits us. I soon push the shuttle to its top speed; protecting it with my shield, as we plow through some of the atmospheric debris fields in an effort to make the transit time as short as possible.

When we reach the ship, we find everything has gone smoothly, in accordance with our carefully considered plans. The people are in place, resting patiently in their assigned beds; and the rest of our family is waiting for our arrival. Bella and I help Father and Alice get situated in their spaces, with Jasper and Mary Alice, Emmett and Rose on one side of them. Riley has somehow managed to arrange his sleeping cot next to Alice, and they share a shy smile before quickly looking away when they realize I am watching them. A smothered snicker from Bella tells me she has watched the same interaction between my sister and her brother.

Ares makes the ship-wide announcement to take the sleeping aid, and I open my mental awareness to monitor everyone's reactions. Questing through the ship, I can feel the people gradually relaxing; and when I nod to Jasper, he sends out his own calming waves of drowsiness. Bella and I watch from inside my shield as everyone around us succumbs to sleep… my family smiling at us one last time before they, too, close their eyes in blissful slumber.

Jasper is the last to go. We watch as he swallows his sleeping potion, positions himself so he is facing Mary Alice, and reaches out to hold her hand. Just before his eyes close, I hear him whisper that he will see me when we reach our new home.

"Take care of us, little brother," he mutters, before he finally allows himself to slip into a deep sleep.

Expanding my shield, I wrap the ship in its protective embrace, suspending time for all the people who sleep within its secure shelter. For a long moment, Bella and I stand hand-in-hand – overcome by what we have just witnessed, by what we have just done. Around us, the ship is completely quiet; there are no rustlings, no squeaks, no sounds of people moving or breathing.

The two of us are enclosed in utter silence.

For the rest of my life, I will always remember those next few moments with Bella; they are stamped indelibly into my memory. Even though we are surrounded by thousands of our slumbering fellow citizens – and by a giant metal ship, with its own unique awareness and intelligence – we are alone; completely, and absolutely alone… together.

It is as if existence itself has paused; as if we are the only people in the world, in the very universe itself. Behind us are all the years and days and hours of our lives. In front of us is an unknown future, a blank page we'll fill with the choices we make. We stand on a threshold separating the past and the future… suspended, for this moment, between the two. It is both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

Bella must feel it as I do, because I feel a shudder ripple through her body; and she gently moves towards me, resting her head on my chest and wrapping her arms around my waist. My arms circle around her, pulling her closer to me… giving and receiving the strength and reassurance we both seem to need. As I hold her against me, I'm distantly aware that my breathing and heartbeat have adjusted to hers; that we are matched for this moment outside of time.

For however long we stay that way, I will never know; but eventually, Ares dims the lights in the cavernous space that holds our slumbering people, and we both realize that it is time to leave; it is time to start the journey we have been preparing for.

Bella steps away from me then, tilting her head up to face me. "Time to go?" she asks quietly.

I nod, silently; and then, taking her hand once more, I lead her out of the hold, down the corridor, and into the ship's control room – where we settle into the pilots' chairs, and begin our preparations to leave the planet. Once we are connected to Ares and the ship's controls, we start the process of detaching the ship from the space station.

Large viewing screens on the control panels in front of us let us observe as, one-by-one, the enormous docking clamps that secure the craft to the station are detached and retract. Small thrusting motors begin to maneuver us away from the platform, and we both sense, and watch, as the ship begins to slowly leave the planet.

When we are a sufficient distance from the station, Ares starts the massive engines that will speed us on our way. There is a sudden jolt as they kick in – and for a few moments, we are pressed into our chairs, unable to move, as the ship accelerates rapidly. The viewing screens show the space station dwindling in the distance behind us. Soon, it is too small to be seen… yet another indication of the immense speed of our craft.

Our planet can still be seen, however; its angry, rust-red color starkly visible against the deep blackness of the space around it. I watch as even it, too, eventually begins to fade, growing smaller and smaller.

"Does it have a name?" I ask suddenly, breaking the silence in the room.

"What?" Bella looks at me questioningly.

"The planet, our old home," I nod towards the screen. "I've never heard it called anything beside 'our planet' or 'our world.' Do you know if it has a name?"

"Oh," Bella responds, tilting her head as she studies the view in front of her. "I really don't know what it used to be called. Over the years, the scientists and others started calling it 'Ares' – and I guess the name just stuck. It seems fitting, somehow," she continues. "A tribute to the man who once helped us find a safe place to live; and is helping us, yet again, to find a new home."

We lapse into silence once more, each of us watching the planet called Ares slowly grow dimmer and dimmer as we leave it behind. My thoughts are a jumbled mess of regret for that destroyed world, mixed with anticipation for the new one we will find.

"And the place we're going?" I question, interrupting the quiet again. "Does the new planet have a name, too?"

"Well… for a long time, everyone referred to it as 'Elizabeth,'" Bella explains. "It seemed an appropriate honor for the woman who gave us hope in a bleak time, just as it is giving us hope now. However, some of the women have suggested that we call it 'Esme' – in honor of your mother, and the lifetime she spent making this journey a reality. But I think I may have found a name that will honor both women."

Bella shifts around in her chair so that she can face me more easily. "Recently, I've been spending a lot of time connected to Ares, and I found images of the planet that we're headed to. Would you like to see them?" she asks.

"We have pictures? Ares has pictures?"

"Yes, sent back by one of the first ships that left." She chuckles at the surprised look on my face. "Sometimes," she continues, "you just have to be very specific in the questions you ask of him to get the answers you are looking for."

Although he has been quiet since our departure, I know Ares is aware of our conversation because I can feel a sense of humor at her statement, coming from him through our link. Before Bella can ask, one of the viewing screens changes to the image of a different planet.

It is breathtaking in its other-worldly beauty.

It appears larger than our planet, although it is difficult to judge from the images. Most of it is covered in a deep, dark blue. There are areas of green and brown, intersected by winding streaks of a silvery blue. A solid white sheet seems to cover both the top and the bottom of the sphere. Random patches of soft white float above the planet's surface. The image reminds me of some of the photos of our world that I found in the ancient archival books of our city.

We listen in disbelief as Ares describes the large blue areas as oceans and seas; vast stretches of deep water, filled with animals that spend their entire lives below its surface. He points out the land masses, covered in green vegetation; as well as the more barren areas, that appear in varying shades of brown. The streaks of silver blue are rivers – openly flowing water, that carries the rain that falls from the soft white patches called clouds. The rounded top and bottom of the sphere are colder, he explains, and the water there is frozen into solid sheets of thick ice.

The contrast to the drought-stricken, dying planet we are leaving behind is painfully obvious; and I am wracked by a sharp stab of remorse and regret for the havoc we rained upon that world.

Ares continues to talk about our new home, as the image of it slowly rotates on the screen in front of us. We listen to descriptions of mountains covered in endless trees and forests; of broad, level plains, where vast herds of animals feed on the grasses growing there. He tells us about fields of blooming wild flowers; about great deserts, covered in dunes of sand that move slowly over the landscape, driven by winds that blow across them. All of them – the mountains, the oceans, the plains, the deserts, the meadows of flowers – all of them are home to an endless bounty of life; a multitude of species… too many to name, or number, or even comprehend.

Our new home is a beautiful blue and white haven, brimming with vitality, as it hangs surrounded by the black emptiness of space.

Long after Ares has stopped talking, Bella and I continue to stare in awed silence at the ever-changing face of the planet, as it slowly rotates on the screen before us.

"You said you found a new name that would honor both women," I finally ask. "What did you find?"

"It's an old word," she replies thoughtfully. "An ancient word that means 'Mother' or 'Life-giver.' I think it would be a good match for our new home. It would honor both Elizabeth and Esme – and all the other mothers who gave us life."

She stops talking then, a sad, wistful smile on her face as gazes down at the image on the screen. I wonder if she is thinking of Renee, and missing her as much as I am missing my mother at this moment.

"Bella?"

She graces me with a happier smile when she turns to face me once again. "Earth," she replies. "The old word I found is 'Earth.'"

"That's what I think we should call our new home, Edward."

Reaching over with her left hand, Bella runs it slowly up and down my forearm before squeezing it reassuringly.

"I think we should call it Earth."

.

.

AN: I know many of you saw this coming; but did I manage to surprise a few of you? LOL One more regular chapter and then a very short concluding/epilogue. Both are written and undergoing editing. Thank you for reading and leaving your thoughts. I love reading them, and I appreciate your continued support. Many thanks to my wonderful beta, Bellebiter. She pushed on this chapter and it is so much better because of it.


	37. Chapter 37

Warning: Lemons ahead!

The Protector

Chapter 37

EPOV

"Earth."

I roll the word around in my mouth, enjoying the way it sounds, the way it feels when I pronounce it. It's an easy word; uncomplicated in its simplicity, yet so complex in its meaning.

"I like it," I tell Bella, returning her happy smile. Then I laugh as she tries, and fails, to suppress a huge yawn. "Tired, love?"

"Yes," she grins sheepishly. "It's been a long day."

"That is has," I agree, nodding towards the door to my room. "Why don't you go ahead and get ready for bed. I'll… "

Suddenly, I stop – wondering if this is what she really wants.

It's true that we'd shared a bed during the time we spent in my family's home; but we hadn't really seen it as a choice, because there were no other bedrooms available in the house, and Alice's room was much too small for two people. When Riley arrived, he'd shared a room with Father. So, our touching had never gone beyond the holding and soothing she had done when nightmares haunted my dreams. The awkwardness of doing anything more in my family's home with Alice, Riley and Father close by had halted almost any thoughts or desires I might have had for a more physical relationship.

Now here we are, alone, and free to be and do what we want; but I don't know what Bella wants. My Father's words from Oath Night come back to me: " A Protector can invite; but the woman makes the choice" repeating in my head. Maybe I need to give her that choice.

"Bella," I start again. "I want to share a room with you on this voyage, but I understand if you don't want to; if you feel it would be too difficult or awkward with the restrictions we have. There are two bedrooms attached to the control room. Each one has a sitting area, and a complete bathing room," I add, nodding in the direction of both doors.

"My things have been stored in the room here to my left, and I would like you to share it with me; but it is your choice."

Bella watches me intently while I speak. When I'm finished, she gives me a pleased smile.

"Thank you for the invitation, Protector," she answers, paraphrasing the more formal acceptance speech for an offer to spend the night together. "It would be my honor to be your partner tonight, Ranger Edward."

I frown at her in confusion. I've accepted the limitations to our physical relationship, so I don't understand why she has answered with a consent for more than we are able to do.

"No," I begin. "I didn't mean…. " But she stops me before I can go further.

"Edward, do you remember me telling you that lately I've spent a lot of time connected to Ares?"

"Yes; I didn't understand how or why, though."

"Well… when Ares took a sample of my blood after I passed out on the return from the settlement, we discovered something very interesting. By testing it every day or so, he is able to chart the fluctuations in my hormones, and by following the fluctuations their levels, he can predict when I am most likely to conceive. Right now, they are very low; so it is highly unlikely that a baby would result from… from, ahh… "

Bella's reasoned, scientific explanation comes to a stuttering halt as she blushes slightly at the implication of her words. The excited, teasing smile on my face doesn't help, I'm sure. At her slight frown, I sober quickly, speaking the words to finalize our agreement.

"Your acceptance honors me."

Sometime during our conversation, Ares has retracted the wires that have connected us to him through the navigation globes. Bella unfastens her safety harness and stands, quickly picking up the package that Carmen had handed her.

"I'm going to go in and freshen up a bit," she explains, before heading towards my room.

I'm left alone in the control room, pacing nervously as I anticipate what is about to happen.

"Edward," Bella whispers.

I look up to see her standing in the doorway to our room. She's completely wrapped in a Ranger's cloak – the folds hiding all her body, and the hood hiding most of her face and hair. I watch as she slowly pushes the hood back, revealing her hair swept up off her neck, and arranged into an intricate knot. It leaves her neck bare, and I'm mesmerized by its graceful arc.

She reaches for the ties at the neck of at the cloak… and, keeping her eyes on me the entire time, loosens them and shrugs the cloak off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. My breath catches in an audible gasp – and she smiles shyly, as she steps away from the pile of fabric at her feet.

Bella is dressed in Ranger leathers. The pants fit her like a second skin, emphasizing the flare of her hips and the narrowness of her waist – which is now exposed to view, since she has forgone her over-shirt, choosing instead to wrap two wide strips of soft leather around her breasts. They leave her shoulders, arms, and abdomen bare.

My eyes roam over the exposed skin.

Her stomach is flat and toned, with the hint of muscle beneath the smooth waist of the pants dips below her navel, and I can see her hipbones just above the edge of the leather. I have the sudden urge to trace that line from hip to hip with my lips.

"Bella," I finally manage to croak, as I step closer to her. "You are so very, very beautiful."

Her smile widens when she hears my words. "You told me once that you liked the way I looked in my leathers." The smile changes to a soft chuckle. "I thought perhaps you would like this version, too."

"Oh, I do… very much!" I grin back at her.

Thinking of peeling those leather garments from her body leaves me tongue-tied and stumbling for words once more. "Were uh… were these in the package that Carmen gave you?"

When she nods, I give a silent " _thank you_ " to the sweet woman we left behind.

Our smiles fade away as we both stare at each other, the implications of what we are about to do filling our thoughts.

Bella reaches around to her back to remove the leather around her chest; but I stop her with a quiet, "No, let me. Please."

She watches solemnly as I approach her, stopping when there are only inches separating us. My fingers reach out to touch a stray curl that hangs just in front of her ear. When I ghost my fingers along the curve of her neck and across one bare shoulder, she shivers, and chill bumps breakout across her skin.

"Edward," she sighs breathlessly.

I want to answer her; but I am suddenly unable to speak, my throat tight with emotions and clogged with all the words I want to say.

"Bella," I finally choke out. "These past few days, weeks… I… I need to tell you… " My words catch in my mouth as I try to explain to her how sorry I am for everything that happened, for every time I doubted her, for every time I lost patience.

"Shh, Edward, shh," she assures me. "Its over now, love. Everything is going to be all right."

With another shy smile, she takes my hand and begins to lead me to our room. After one last check around the control room and a mental touch to ensure the shield is in place, I follow her.

Closing the door firmly behind me, I find her waiting for me. She turns her back… and I release the knot that holds the covering over her breasts, letting the soft strips drop forgotten to the floor. The leather pants are slowly peeled down her legs, their supple leather slipping down over even more pliant skin. They, too, are left lying on the floor.

Finally, I reach up and release the combs and pins holding her hair on top of her head… running my fingers through the curls, until they fall in a riot down her back and over her shoulders.

I've never considered the beauty of a woman's back before. Defined muscles overlay her shoulder blades and outline the ridge of her spine; evidence of physical labor, and hours spent training with a bow and arrow. I trace the sinuous curve with my eyes. There is something endearingly fragile about the knobby spikes of her backbone. Although they look delicate and easily shattered, they are, instead, hard and strong – supporting her whole body and keeping her upright, even as they help anchor the ribcage that protects her tender organs. Ribs that I can also clearly see, beneath their slight covering of skin and tissue.

Bella is too thin.

Knowing she used her life force, her energy, to selflessly grow food for people who were, at one time, complete strangers; knowing she used that same life force to help sustain my shield, during our escape from the storm; and also understanding the stress and guilt she has lived with… all of it fills me with an overwhelming need to protect her. I want to wrap myself around her, surround her with my love and care, defend her from any unhappiness or stress.

I silently vow to spoil her on our long journey; to make her eat and rest, to make her laugh and relax, until she can regain the healthy fullness she once had, before our lives changed so drastically.

I cannot stop myself from lightly dragging my finger down her spine, tracing those knobby bumps until they end, disappearing into the cleft between the cheeks of her bottom. A visible shudder shakes her body, and a fresh batch of chill bumps erupts when I let my finger trail even lower.

The twitch of her body has shifted her stance, and two dimples appear just at the base of her spine above her hip bones. I stare at them, fascinated, until I can no longer control myself – and I lean over, placing a lingering kiss in each indentation.

"Edward, Edward," Bella whisper-moans my name.

Her voice is my undoing; and I straighten, placing my hands on her hips, turning her slowly so we face each other.

She is stunning in her nakedness: all smooth skin, and pebbled flesh; all soft hollows and rounded curves.

I let my eyes wander over each inch of her… the delicate bones of her shoulders and hips, the hidden strength in bicep and thigh muscles. I admire the graceful arc of her neck, the pink plumpness of her lips, the dark lashes that frame her glistening green eyes and hold the single drop of liquid I see gathering there. When my eyes have roamed her entire body and my sight is so full of her I can hold no more, I close my eyes, step closer… and I touch.

My hands follow the same path my eyes roamed. My fingers touch that same skin, those same bones, the same hollows and curves. They trace the same lips, the arc of neck and shoulder. They catch the drop of moisture that is slowly trickling down her cheek. My hands hold and caress, tease and fondle, part and explore. And when my hands have learned all of her… all her trembling parts, all her exotic femaleness… then I let my mouth and my nose explore where my eyes and hands have been.

Her skin is infused with the scent of herbs and flowers; her hair is a veritable bouquet of floral fragrance. I breathe it in, as my mouth finds a sensitive spot behind her ear. The lips I've explored with both eyes and fingers now yield beneath my own, and the sweetness of her kiss fills my mouth. My own lips trace a path down her neck, across her collarbones and chest, before veering to explore the erotic plumpness of each breast. I kiss, and I nip, and I suck my way across her stomach, her muscles contracting and flexing as I follow that enticing path from hip bone to hip bone.

And then I move lower.

A kiss to the back of the knee elicits a shy giggle; the trace of a delicate instep causes a breathless gasp. Each toe must be examined and lightly tickled. Calf and thigh muscles appreciated for their strength and firmness. The resplendent roundness of her derrière fills my hands; and I rub and squeeze, letting my fingers and mouth slowly wander to the junction between her thighs.

The scent and taste of her saturates my nose and mouth; my ears are laden with her hushed cries and tender beggings. She trembles and shakes, quivers and quakes… my name a litany of shuddering wants.

We have moved to our bed now, and my clothes are gone. Her hands and lips tug at me… pulling me to her, guiding me… as I settle into the welcoming cradle of her hips and thighs. My skin is alive where it touches hers. Chest to chest, abdomen to abdomen, hip to hip; her legs wrap around me, drawing me even closer… urging me to take, to claim, to give.

Pushing myself up on my forearms so that I can see her face, we watch each other, eyes filled with love and adoration, as she opens to me; and I enter, sealing our union in an act as old as time, as new as the exquisite pleasure coursing through our bodies.

Over-stimulated nerves leave us breathless and panting – as she shudders beneath me, and I tremble above her. We are soft moans and loud cries, tense muscles and soft kisses. I consume, and she yields; she demands, and I capitulate. We are sight and touch, taste and smell and hearing. And then, when my senses are filled to capacity with her… when I can absorb no more of the intense physical delight that is Bella… I open my mind, and find her waiting there for me.

I recognize the glowing, pulsating energy of Bella's mind that I touched briefly that night in my room. This time, there is no hesitation, no indecision; I boldly enter her mind, drowning in the pleasure, acceptance and love I find there. There is no vacillation from her, either, as she moves into mine. Brief flashes of childhood memories, thoughts and dreams are shared between us as our consciousness melds.

I watch as my gap-toothed, five-year-old self shares a sweet cake with a four-year-old little girl, whose name I cannot pronounce, my mouth stumbling over the 'R' and the 'S' sounds. I glimpse a brief memory of the party where she and her parents presented me with a gift to celebrate my leaving day, and I feel her sadness that we will no longer be allowed to play together.

Her thoughts of me over the years flash through my mind: a stolen peek at a fourteen-year-old Edward on a training field, drawing a bow and smiling in triumph, when his arrow hits the center; a sharp sting of jealousy and frustration from the girl who will never be allowed to feel the tug of the drawstring, or the satisfaction of hitting the target. I relive her joy and happiness at seeing me standing to honor her at her first social… as well as the shy but pleased smile I gave her when she approached me. Finally, I watch, from her hiding place with Jasper, as I raise my bleeding hand to all our people and swear to protect them with my life, my body, and my blood.

All her memories… all her dreams and plans and thoughts… are shared freely with me. She gives me her sadness, her sorrows, her loneliness, her guilt. She gives me her joy, her happiness, her pride… and her steady, unflinching belief in us. She gives me everything.

It is this sixth sense – this sharing of body and mind, of physical and mental – that truly binds us as one.

Her body is my body; her pleasure, my pleasure. The intense longing to hold her so close to me that there is no end of her or beginning of me has finally been realized, as we move together towards our completion. Each push… each squeeze… each thrust, and each clench… all are amplified by the duality of being both the giver and the receiver at the same time.

Riven by the rapture of our lovemaking, I am embraced by ecstasy, devastated by delectation.

My name is a supplication from her lips as I devote myself to the worship of her mind and body. For the present and for the future… for this moment, and for time unending… with a blinding climax of pleasure so consuming, so _overwhelming_ that we are left stunned and astounded… we complete the physical act of our love.

Afterwards, we lie arm-in-arm, satiated and contented, the endorphins of our pleasure still pinging through our bodies. I sense Bella's mind and body slowly relaxing as she shifts onto her side, quieting to fall into a deep, restful sleep. I wrap my body around hers; pulling her to me, her back to my chest; protecting her and guarding her, even in rest. The blissfulness of sleep is stealing upon me; but before completely surrendering to it, I leave one last kiss on Bella's neck… whispering into her ear how much I love her, and will always love her. She must hear me, even if subconsciously, because she smiles… a soft, tender expression, full of happiness… before a gentle sigh leaves her lips.

I let my eyes close – opening my mind to the ship and the people, and to the shield that guards them all. Everything is as it should be; everything is peaceful, serene, calm. _Safe_.

And then… after I have reassured myself that my duty, my responsibility has been fulfilled… only then do I welcome the sweet release of slumber, slipping down into that quiet haven of rest.

Around us, the ship – wrapped in its protective shield – speeds away from our old world… leaving behind a dying planet, poisoned by the aftermath of greed and violence.

We rush instead towards a new world, a new beginning. A second chance to learn from our mistakes, and build a society of equality and respect.

A planet waits for us – pristine in its loveliness, and welcoming in its life-sustaining fertility.

A planet, named in honor of our mothers, and our grandmothers, and our great-grandmothers. Named for all the women who gave us life.

Women who nurtured, who supported, who protected – until it was our turn to share that responsibility.

Women who persisted, who resisted, who endured – until they had the power to change.

We travel to that planet, with its endless possibilities, its countless opportunities, and its limitless potential.

We journey to a new fate, to a new history… to a future of our own choosing and forging.

We rush to our destination… to our new home.

Earth.

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An: This chapter has been written for several months and I am so happy to finally be able to share it with you. My first love scene, and believe me it was not easy to write! ha This story is basically finished. There is one more short, concluding chapter which we hope to post soon. Thank you for the support and love you have shown to me and to my story. I never planned to write 150K words, nor did I intend to wait until the end to let our two protagonists finally get together! I hope it was worth the wait.

Thank you, Belle, for... well everything!


	38. Chapter 38

The Protector

Chapter 38

Possibilities

Somewhere in the darkness of space, a ship speeds silently towards the third planet of a small solar system.

Located on the outer rim of a large spiral arm, the system is part of a relatively insignificant galaxy; barely distinguishable in a greater cluster of galaxies that, even when taken altogether, occupy only a minute corner of a universe. A universe of unimaginable expanse, of unmeasurable timelessness.

The relic of a nearly forgotten, technologically advanced civilization, the ship is a lumbering, ungraceful conglomerate of mechanical patches, repairs, and renovations. It exists and functions due only to the dedicated efforts of the descendants of that civilization, and their desperate need to survive.

It travels through a universe of immense beauty, splayed in stuttered patterns born of utter chaos.

A billion, trillion glittering stars prick the weighty darkness… while planets of untold number, size, and color dance to the siren call of their mother suns. Comets streak through the eternal cold – leaving a trail of sparkling, evanescent dust to mark their demise. Asteroids, moons, and meteors; black holes, galaxies, and star clusters; solar systems, and vast nebulas of glowing gaseous dust clouds; all struggle to fill a cosmos of black voids and enormous distance. While everywhere around them – engulfing those physical objects, permeating the black voids, and spanning that enormous distance – is the distinct hum of the universe; a song it sings… of itself, to itself.

The music that connects the star dust in all of us… in everything.

Yet as small and ugly and unremarkable as the ship is – especially when viewed against the backdrop of unfathomable vastness, or compared to the elegance of the spirals and patterns in space that surround it – the ship is, nevertheless, extremely important because of the cargo it contains. For deep in its hold, the ship carries the most precious thing to be found in that vast, unending universe.

It carries life… in all its limitless possibilities.

Life… that yearns for love and safety – yet struggles to overcome its natural propensity towards violence and destruction. Life… with its innate ability to produce and appreciate beauty in all its varied forms – yet carelessly annihilate that which it holds most dear. Life… with an amazing capacity to change, to evolve, to learn from mistakes – yet so easily and so blindly forget its own histories.

Life. Unique and marvelous. Monstrous and mundane.

The ship carries all these possibilities and more as it travels to that third planet, in that small solar system, in that small, insignificant galaxy.

An impenetrable shield wraps the ship in its embrace, protecting the precious life. From time to time, a small piece of space dust, some fragment of cosmic debris, glances off the shield; diverted by its strength, but never threatening the ship or its cargo.

Secure in the safety it provides, the people of a dying planet lie suspended in time… waiting for their arrival to a living planet, that may hold the hopeful prospect of a new beginning. A chance to rectify the mistakes of their past; to build a society where male and female are equal. A time to respect their mother the land, and live in harmony with the plants and the animals. An opportunity to overcome the shackles of prejudice and the tyranny of discord; to finally accept that there is no _Thaay or us_. That there is only _we_.

The possibility to finally live in peace.

In a small room in that speeding ship, a young man sleeps with his arms wrapped around the young woman he loves. It is his shield that envelops the ship and its people; it is her strength that can sustain it. Together, they dream of a future filled with love, with happiness, with all those unlimited possibilities.

The task she willingly accepted, to ensure the survival of her people, has changed her forever. She uses her gift to grow their food; shares her life-strength to maintain their protection; and courageously braves the stigma of 'traitor' to protect the ones she loves. Asked to put aside and postpone her own personal wants and desires, she places the needs of her society before her own. She is loyal and steadfast. She was – and is, and will always be – the nourisher, the life-giver; she is the backbone of her people, and the mettle of the man she loves.

She is a hero.

The words of the oath he swore in his blood, on that dying planet, have become part of his bones and flesh; part of his very being. He serves freely, without reservation; forgoing all selfishness, and placing the needs of his society before his own. He is loyal and steadfast; as willing to brave the unknowns before them as he is to study and redress the transgressions of their past. He is the fighter of his own fears, and the refuge of support for the woman he loves. He was – and is, and will always be – their guardian, their defender, their shield and champion.

He is a hero.

He is The Protector.

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The End

AN: There are so many things I need to say now, so many people I need to thank; but I really hate long author notes. So to everyone who has read and left a review… thank you. There are not enough words for me to express just how much your support for me and for my story has affected me.

When I took a giant leap of faith and posted that first chapter so many months ago, I never expected the warm encouragement I received. When Totteacher left my first review, and 2muchtrouble became my first follower, I understood what it felt like to be an author with an audience.

Thank you to Rita01TX for my amazing banner and for promoting The Protector on her blog, Rob Attack. Thank you to A Different Forest and TehLemonadeStand for also recommending my story. And thank you to STARS Library for selecting it as a "Featured Story of the Week."

Thank you to my dear hubby, whose patience has been unending.

And, finally, thank you to my beta, editor, cheerleader, hand-holder and ass-kicker – Bellebiter. Throughout this collaboration you have 'gently nudged' me into becoming a better writer and have helped me fulfill a life-long dream. But even more importantly, you have become my friend, and I am so thankful for that opportunity. I look forward to the amazing stories we will write together in the future!

Hugs and much love,

Janet (hikingurl)


	39. Chapter 39

I've been working on a future take for The Protector for some time now, and it is finally finished. It has been posted as a separate story, so if you don't have me on author alert, you might not have received the posting notice. It can be found on my account under the title "Earth." Many readers asked questions about what happened after the citizens of Ares (Mars *grin*) landed on Earth. I hope this chapter answers most of them. Thank you, again, for the reviews and the support for this story. I appreciate all of you.


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